Thunder Child
by xXLuneaXx
Summary: When Oliver had died, he had not expected to wake up again with small flailing hands reaching for the skies. Especially not with the pitched wails that wouldn't stop no matter how hard he tried. He was surprised, bordering a mental breakdown when he finally realised with a mortification that reincarnation was real. And it had to be Lambo Bovino of all people.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** **You know, I was just going through my docs when I stumbled upon my old muse of a story. I had written A LOT for it surprisingly ****enough, and after having a read of what I had written so far, I decided that I might as well polish it a bit and release it. It's quite a tragedy now that I think about it, but anything for my BAMF Lambo Bovino. Yes, it was the stereotypical OC-reincarnation story, so bear with it. It's a cliche, but it's a GOOD cliche you gotta**** admit.**

**PREPARE YOURSELF MORTALS FOR THE ANGST.**

**And enjoy!**

**(It's cross-posted with AO3 under the name Quincy_Bright. Also, the summary in was shortened somewhat with the word count. Just one sentence, but it's not that important, haha!)**

* * *

Oliver hadn't thought much about his death, considering he still had a long life ahead of him and that he was only 24 years old. And he's never thought about dying either. He had a family, friends (probably, he rarely goes out nowadays) and so many possibilities for the future doing what he did best.

Exploring.

As a child, he'd always been described as being too curious for his own good. Too distracted, his parents used to tell him, by anything that holds his interest. Which was a nightmare for his parents as everything had been interesting to him. Books, animals, adventure and the most horrifying of all, his projects. Things that his parents thought were innocent reads turned out to be projects that caused property damage that left adults reeling in disbelief. Doubtful that something like this could be caused by the hands of a mere seven-year-old _child_. It was then when all the adults realised that _yes_, he can.

Slingshots the size of a bike flinging canon-like projectiles that have more than once destroyed their neighbours' windows. A firework show that nearly burned the house down from when he tried to re-enact a scene straight out of the _Harry Potter series._ And the time he came home with a _rattlesnake_ wrapped around his shoulders that nearly sent his mother screaming for the hills.

After a while, everyone knew about the wild little boy in their neighbourhood. They've all had a front-row seat of Oliver's brand of mayhem and they had eventually grown used to it. Shaking their heads once in a while at the odd sounds of explosions coming from his house or the screams that followed.

Oliver had always thought he was lucky for having parents that still loved him despite everything he did. Though he does believe that it was largely due to the fact they were a little glad that Oliver had never had access to more dangerous materials when he was younger. They had once confessed that the thought of him carrying around any kind of acids or, lord mercy, any sort of flammable gas, they would have put a collar on him to prevent him from wandering ever again. Exploration was dangerous, they had hissed humorously.

So no, Oliver hadn't thought about dying.

But he died, and _oh_, he did.

He still remembers it vividly, since he had been stressed and starving from staying in his apartment studying the living daylights for his final exams. He had gone three days without sunshine, three long days only watching papers and numbers before him—and his eyes had _burned_ when he exited his apartment door. He spent a solid five minutes standing outside, gripping his eyes while cursing profanities that startled his elderly neighbour enough for her to slam her doors open, screaming at him to 'shut your trap'. He had apologised profusely afterward.

Till now, Oliver still didn't know if he regrets walking into the supermarket that day. He had thought that he'd just go in, grab junk food to last him the next three days, and walk out.

Life, on the other hand, was a bitch that way.

Instead, he had walked in, grabbed his junk food, and promptly dropped it when a man wearing a black ski-mask ran in and screamed, "Give me all your money!"

Oliver had almost groaned out loud at the cliché and thought, why me? Why the ever-loving God, me? But it was happening and he had no idea how to stop it. It was only the sight of a gun, a _real_ gleaming gun held painfully tight in the criminal's grip that made everyone in the store tense up. It wasn't a big store mind you, small enough to keep everyone in sight by the criminal's viewpoint, and with him pointing a gun like that made everything just the more dangerous.

Glancing around, Oliver swallowed when he met the gazes of the fearful customers, all too scared to tear their sights from the gun pointed at them. A child started sobbing at the sudden hostility of the situation, and her mother had tried to smother the cries, terrified for their safety. It was a well-deserved fear when the criminal aimed his gun at them much to the horror of everyone else.

"Don't move!" The masked man screamed at one of the customers that tried to make a move towards him. "If you do, I'll shoot the kid!"

Oliver bristled, narrowing his green eyes at the despicable man as the mother started to cry too, pleading for mercy.

"Not my child, please, not my—"

"Shut up!" The robber shrieked, waving is gun frighteningly. Turning his head slightly towards the cashier, the man growled while throwing a bag on top of the counter, "Start packing."

The young girl behind the cashier fumbled for the bag, hands trembling as she tried to gather her nerves as she did what she was told. Oliver wonders if she's from his university, it wouldn't be surprising considering a lot of people worked outside the campus. Getting another close look above the girl, he watched relieved when a man from outside the store whispered hurriedly into his phone, eyes snapping back and forth between the faces in the room.

Thank the lords, Oliver breathed.

Bowing his head, the University student sighed quietly to himself. He was about to do something stupid. A stupid that only happens in cheesy anime or cartoons. He's probably going to regret this later. Possibly. Most likely. _Definitely_.

I mean, Oliver just had to distract the robber. That's not too hard, is it? The police were coming and seeing the gun aimed at the mother and child brought all the queasy feelings inside Oliver's chest to churn painfully. And besides, who knows what the criminal would do if he hears the police sirens. Shot them in retaliation? In panic? The human response varied and Oliver disliked the many scenarios he's imagining.

Braving a step forwards, mentally screaming 'fuck it', Oliver held his hands into the air while stepping out of his aisle. Before he knew it, Oliver had successfully stepped between the two without getting shot. It was only the criminal, the mother, and a conveniently placed body shield between them. Mentally patting his back at this marvellous achievement, Oliver nodded to himself. He acknowledges briefly at how the mother had decided to curl her body over her daughter in a similar manner of protection.

"W-Wait!" Oliver appeased when the robber cocked his gun at him with wild suspicion. "Let's talk about this!"

"Don't fucking move!" The man screamed again, and Oliver wondered briefly if every petty robber says the same exact words that start with 'don't' and ends with 'move'.

"Please, just lower your gun, it's really unnecessary." What utter bullshit, of course the man wouldn't just drop his gun, even Oliver wasn't that stupid. Instead, he swallowed his fears and carefully squared his shoulders with his palms held forwards.

"We won't do anything. Just take the money and leave." _Don't aim at them_ was left unsaid.

The robber growled, gun still held high but shuffled closer to the cashier who flinched back in response.

"You done yet!" He snapped at the girl.

"J-Just a m-moment, I-I'm almost done! Please!" She whispered, her distress palpable with how pale she was.

While the girl continued to grab anything of worth, Oliver turned his head slightly to send a hopefully what he called a reassuring gaze at the mother who stared wide-eyed at him. It was as her bright eyes directed at him was filled with nothing but gratitude as she held her daughter close.

"I said, don't fucking move!" Oliver gulped as he turned his head back slowly, less he aggravates the criminal further.

Come on, the police should be here soon. Oliver should know considering the police station was only a couple of blocks away. Just a little longer and everything would turn out fine.

He jinxed himself.

In all his brainstorming, Oliver had forgotten about the man by the cashier. The one who had been eager to stop the robber before freezing when the gun aimed at the little girl at the start. He should have seen how the stranger had tensed in preparation, ready to launch his attack while the criminal turned his head away. Alas, Oliver was only human too.

The stranger had pounced like a cheetah, and Oliver could only watch in near super-powered slow-mo as he grabbed the sleeve of the masked robber with a victorious expression. It didn't end well when the criminal squeezed the trigger in surprise, an earth-shattering _bang_ echoing through the small expanse before the stranger grappled him to the floor.

Oliver had recoiled in shock, stumbling back as he gripped his side at the sudden pain flaring from his abdomen. He had almost forgotten to breathe as he blinked, trying to process what happened, only to feel something wet and gushing out from between his fingers. Bringing his hand up, Oliver watched with morbid fascination at the bold red entering his view, dripping and trailing down his arm in large quantities. Peering down in a daze, Oliver caught the growing path of red spreading across his shirt like a crimson wildfire.

It was a scream that caused Oliver to realise what had happened.

_He's been shot!_

Oliver hitched his breath at the revelation, raising his hands to cover the opening the best he could despite the hiss of pain that escaped his lips at the motion. He ignored it, focusing on closing the wound because _he didn't want to die._

Oliver's legs had only buckled instead, knees hitting the floor with a loud crack. It should have been painful, but he had felt nothing as he crumpled to the floor. Instead of pain, everything grew numb as his sight started to blur around the edges. Each breath was more challenging than the last as he scrambled weakly against the floor. No doubt smearing the marble in a horrendous display of blood works as he tried to pull himself up in futile.

Oliver was quickly jostled to his side and soon found himself staring straight up at the ceiling of the supermarket with hazy green eyes. The sight of the mother leaning over him greeted him, soundless words telling him to hold on as another one entered his view to bundle up their jumper to press it against his wounds. Despite their hard work at prolonging his life, Oliver found that he'd already started drifting.

Looking weakly at the mother, Oliver wonders if he should have done what he did. Try to help? Sure. Jumping to stand between a mother and a crook that happened to have a gun? That's not even negotiable. He wouldn't for the life of him leave the mother to suffer the same fate as he is. He'd rather die.

_The irony._

Seeing the colours of red and blue flashing blearily across the ceiling, Oliver closed his eyes in resignation. Finding himself satisfied with just the thought that the mother and daughter are alive. A smile reached his lips at the thought and with a quiet exhale, Oliver succumbed to the abyss of darkness that swallowed him _whole_.

* * *

When Oliver had died, he had not expected to wake up again with small failing hands reaching for the skies. Especially not with the pitched wails that wouldn't stop no matter how hard he tried. He was surprised, bordering a mental breakdown when he realised with mortification that reincarnation is real. All those times he scoffed and laughed at the idea of rebirth was all coming back to bite him in the ass.

A cry of horror escaped him.

Just what divine being had he offended to deserve this?

His thoughts were derailed when he was suddenly bundled together by a fluffy blue towel, looping across his chubby arms and legs, cocooning him like a slumbering caterpillar. The nurse holding him had only cooed softly in Italian as she rocked him gently. A language Oliver had never picked up other than to learn a few phrases by his Italian friends. Friends that always—had always made fun of his terrible accent. And now he's expected to speak it fluently. Great.

As his wails pierced the air loudly, he soon found himself quieting down once he was placed in another set of arms. Arms that held him loosely, as if tired from a strenuous workout. Curiously, he wonders if this is his new mother that had given her all in birthing him. He couldn't see much other than the hospital gown pressed against his face, muffling his cries against her soft bosoms. He questions what kind of person she was. Is she strict? Kind? Humble? Overly bright?

With slim hands adjusting her grips around him, the baby found himself facing towards the ceiling of the room. The infant waved away the unease when he remembered that he died facing this way too.

However, when he finally met the sight of his new mother, expecting all sorts of positive things, his blood. Ran. _Cold_. It's not because she wasn't beautiful— she was absolutely gorgeous with luscious black hair falling over her face in water-like quality. Stray strands of hair sticking to her face that was slick with her sweat from her earlier struggle. No, it wasn't because of her pretty face.

_It was her eyes._

Eyes the colour of shining emeralds, framed by long lashes that gazed at him with such coldness that he momentarily doubted their relation. There is no warmth in those eyes. No motherly love or gushing excitement, different from how his aunt acted when she first gave birth to his youngest cousin. Instead, they were blank and devoid of any love towards him.

He watched with squinted baby eyes at the women (his mother?) that pursed her lips at him—her first _real_ expression, and it was filled with nothing but indifference. The new-born promptly shuddered when she spoke for the first time, shivering at how her voice sounded like a day in a desolate snowfield.

"Lambo." She stated flatly. "Lambo Bovino."

He scrunched his brows, puzzled if she had either said something in Italian or had called for him. Yet, whatever she said has sounded remarkably _familiar_ to him. It's definitely not a brand or anything, for sure, but something akin to that? A title? A name? It _sounded_ like a name.

"_You sure?_" Came the foreign reply from a masculine voice from the corner of the room, and Lambo—his name is _Lambo_ now (he thinks)—tries to strain his head to locate the source of the voice to no avail.

"_Yes_." Noticing that something had been agreed upon between the two adults, Lambo found himself picked up by someone, away from the emotionless woman.

Taking in the new face that carried him, Lambo noticed the stranger was a handsome one. Like a model straight out of a fashion magazine that he had been forced to read when his mother—his _real_ mother—thought she had missed out on having a daughter to gossip with. The man is tall, sharp-faced with curly black hair cut short over brown eyes, but the hashtag birthmark underneath the left eye was what held Lambo's attention the longest.

On the other hand, just like his new mother, the man had looked at Lambo with nothing but coldness. Lambo sniffled unwillingly at the look, thinking how seriously concerned and creeped out he was with their shared expressions of cold indifference.

"Lambo Bovino." The man hummed before nodding detached interest. "_It'll do_."

The new-born watched as the man (was that really his _father?_) walk towards the doors despite the nurses' sputters of indignation. Lambo, formerly Oliver, contemplated the sanity of his new father for taking a _newly_ born baby from any health assistance and ponders if he'll die a premature death so early on in his new life. Lambo could only wail reluctantly at the thought, finding no reassurance at being held by this insane man.

The man halted, brown eyes zeroing onto Lambo as if he had read his thoughts, but tilted his head over his shoulder instead to give the woman that had given birth to him a final glance. He looked almost thoughtful.

"_Goodbye, Maria_." The man said unequivocally before walking out the doors that had been held open by two giants wearing black suits.

In a trance, Lambo wonders if this new family was people of great importance.

Stilling his cries, Lambo peered up warily at the man that carried him down the dark lit hallway, finding him questioning him and his intentions. Bad vibes practically exuded from the chilling stranger, who was possibly his new father, and wasn't that a concern? Lambo tensed when the man stopped suddenly in the middle of his walk, casting a rather ominous look at his being. A smile graced his face, and Lambo paled at the not so innocent look.

"Lambo Bovino." The man stated once again, and Lambo paled even more when he finally remembered where he had heard that name before. It was like a bolt out of the blue, flashes of a laughing child with a ridiculous afro coming to mind, pulling all sorts of crazy things like pulling a damned bazooka out of nowhere. A bazooka he had been fascinated by as a child when he first watched the series, having tried to dissect it and find out how it worked before he realized that this was anime logic and cried.

He remembered Lambo Bovino. The boy who tried to kill Reborn, the greatest hitman in the world, and the youngest guardian of Tsunayoshi Sawada. The Lightning Guardian. The Crybaby. A fictional character. With a horrified widening of his eyes, he realizes what the adults have been calling him all this time.

Lambo Bovino.

The man, not understanding the inner turmoil the newborn baby was going through, continued what he began.

"_Welcome to the Bovino Famiglia_."

Lambo, doing what he was best known for, _wailed_.

* * *

**A/N: I hope you guys liked it!**

**Boy, you guys are in for a slow burn of angsty childhood.**

**Also, I hope you guys notice the parallels between Oliver!Lambo and Canon!Lambo from here on after!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: When ****I was editing this chapter, I was very confused****. Mind you, I wrote this three years ago, so a lot of the things I was trying to convey is gone f****rom my memories now. Though, it doesn't really matter as I kinda interpreted the best way I could. I do b****elieve the starting chapters are a bit sl****ow, but by the next chapter, things should be picked ****up quickly. Just hold on! **

**I also wanted to thank everyone for your lovely favorites, follows and comments! **

**So thank you! **

**And enjoy!**

* * *

Turns out, that man happens to be his father. Additionally, his father happens to be the _Bovino Boss_. Adding to that, _Lambo wants no part of this._ Absolutely. NOT. He couldn't help but cry frustrated tears at his pitiful situation, glaring daggers around his crib that fenced his escape to sweet liberty. He had believed, for a microscopic moment that this was all just a huge misunderstanding, but hearing the term 'Bovino Famiglia' on repeat left very little to imagine to the new-born.

Lambo sucked on his lip to muffle the cries less he notified his wet nurse _again_. He'd rather avoid such a scarring event until its completely necessary and right now, it _wasn't_. Though, the identities of his parents were. From what he's gathered over the few days, the woman that had birthed him was called Maria, anything other than that was still a mystery to Lambo. After all, there is only so much he can decipher with his meager skill in Italian as he listened in on his nursemaids' conversations. That's why he's grateful for the Spanish classes he took when he was in high school as it allowed him to get some gist of the story being whispered around.

It's…not as surprising as he expected it to be when he found out his birth was akin to that of a political agreement.

It explains a lot about their behaviour that night. At his parents' (—could he even call them that?) complete disregard for his well-being as they traded him around as if a long-awaited tool. At the genuine fright Lambo had felt towards the two adults that were _supposed_ to take care of him. It was…a bit of a let-down as he compared them with his old parents. Recalling people who'd been there for him every step of the way and had cared for him. People who've told him they loved him more times than he could count.

Lambo _knows_ it's not going to be the same this time around.

The more he thought about it, the more worried he was about how he'll be treated from now on.

Glancing towards the busy nursemaid shuffling through the books by the vast cabinet, Lambo found himself sighing. Issues aside, Lambo had even more dire problems to prioritize. Like learning Italian, Japanese, and his new role in this world of what he had previously defined as 'just another anime in my watched list'. God, how he regrets it now.

But it's not going to be hard, right? He just got to adjust a little, act a little obnoxious, and perfect a laugh that will grate his ears. He'll cry for plot, display an ego the size of Uranus, and among other things! Somehow he'll make it through. It's not going to be hard or anything. Not at all.

Lambo promptly dropped his face into his soft hands and screamed into them. Who was he kidding, he'd rather die _again_ than be caught acting that way! His pride will have none of it. _No way._

Staring at his babified hands, he could only think about the inevitable changes his appearance will bring—the chaos Lambo _and_ Oliver will bring.

He snorted.

_"Oh? Is Young Master Lambo hungry again?"_ Lambo paled, seeing the resigned face of his wet nurse leaning over his crib. The woman smiled kindly as she reached for him, and unable to run away or grab the poles to save himself, Lambo had been lifted into the air. He watched with horrified eyes as she started unbuttoning the top part of her dress all the while bringing him closer.

_Nonononononono, OH GOD N—_

* * *

After the traumatic months passed by, the nursemaids finally trusted Lambo enough to let him play outside his crib much to his delight. It had been a relief to the infant who'd almost started a mutiny against them, glad he didn't have to resort to such drastic measures. In the end, he'd hate to impose on the only people who've bothered to care for him so far. God knows his own birth parents wouldn't be visiting anytime soon.

Though, it wasn't like he could do much outside of his crib either, Lambo thought sullenly as he stared at the scattered toys around him. Despite being a baby, Lambo knows he's outgrown these childish gestures of playing with toys, no matter how much he tries to entertain himself with them. It was bland, mundane almost, and he's dying of sheer _boredom_.

Even when his boredom had been sated somewhat after the recent stunt his caretakers had pulled last month.

It had been a slow day, everyone felt stagnant at the lack of activity and gossip that could fuel them for days. So in a fit of shared boredom, Lambo had watched as his caretakers built a pyramidal structure from scratch with his wooden block toys. Nothing necessarily impressive until they started _spelling_ things with them.

It had started with simple things like what day of the week it was, which then branched out to the months, which then branched out to colours and so on. It was only after a backhanded comment thrown into the air that seemed to fuel some sort of new inspiration in his caretakers as they all gained a frightening gleam in their eyes. It had been startling as Lambo's never seen such fervour in his caretakers before and had only watched in fascination as they started writing something new with the blocks. When Lambo realised what they wrote, he had howled with laughter.

'THE BOVINO BOSS IS AN ASSHOLE' is what it read and it was _hilarious_.

And just when he thought the day couldn't be any better, he had convulsed in another set of laughter when the guards outside flung open at his shrieking howls, demanding what was happening. Only to be met with the youngest maid sending a splendid high kick with a panicked cry of 'hi-ya' to their pyramidal structure. The blocks flying across the room had been _beautiful_—made even more so when one of the blocks smashed itself to the eye of one shell-shocked bodyguard.

Seeing the stupefied faces of the guards, the maids horrified ones and the crying man whimpering on the floor, Lambo had all but tilted to the floor in shaking fits. His caretakers had terrified themselves thinking he'd die right then and there from his endless cackling that had only sounded like choked hiccups to them.

All in all, he loved his caretakers. Only when they weren't busy tending to other things, leaving him to poke at his cow stuffed toy alone. Lambo puffed his cheeks, annoyed at the marble eyes staring straight back at him as if mocking him and expeditiously pushed it away. The stuffed toy had only tilted sideways with a soundless _flop_, laying unmoving and boring in front of Lambo.

He had almost cried at the sight. _Almost_.

Looking around, Lambo sought out anything of interest to pass the time, or more specifically, anything to _explore_ with. Which was proven futile as his caretakers took great measures to ensure his overall safety remained as so and baby-proofed the room to utmost perfection. Too perfect, actually. And it made Lambo (—_Oliver_—) sorely disappointed.

Sucking on his bottom lip, Lambo sent a pleasing look at his current caretaker watching over him, making sure to amplify the cuteness meter by widening his eyes to an impossible but shiny degree. He slumped his shoulders in defeat when he noticed she was still busy folding the newly dried towels with an endearing amount of concentration, abandoning him to his overwhelming boredom. A heavy sigh escaped his lips. If Lambo had thought being a baby was easier than studying for exams, then he was sorely mistaken.

Giving up, Lambo let himself tip sideways like his fallen counterpart, cushioning his head against the fluffy toy. With a miserable groan, Lambo eyed the rows of books lining across the rich mahogany shelves in front of him, scanning the titles in ennui fashion. Resting his sights on one specific title, Lambo widened his eyes as he abruptly sat up, face lighting up with glee. Crawling as quick as he could with his powerless limbs, Lambo reached the bottom of the shelves in record time, chubby hands extended to grab what he desired. On the other hand, his happiness was short-lived when he realised exactly how _high_ the bookcase was compared to him.

The realisation that his only cure for his boredom had been put to a stop because of a measly thing called _height_, a weakness unheard of when he had still been Oliver, irked him to no end. It was ludicrous, preposterous, inane or any other synonyms denoted from crazy! Swirling his head sharply to the side, Lambo narrowed his eyes.

He delivered a high-pitch wail, satisfied when his caretaker jumped at the sound and lifted her head frantically in search. She was young, a healthy glow to her face as her blue-grey eyes blinked rapidly, blond hair pulled into a neat bun as she wore the standard maid uniform of the Bovino house. The woman rose to a stand when she spotted where her charge was crying from, patting her uniform dress to avoid wrinkles and sauntered towards him. With a worried smile, the nursemaid bent down to retrieve Lambo from the floor, rocking him.

_"What's wrong, my little young master?_" She cooed, trying to soothe whatever had made him cry.

As if Lambo understood what she was asking, he pointed stubbornly at the book lodged between two larger ones, whimpering for added effect and grabby hands to say 'I want that!' The maid followed the direction of his hands, and from the momentarily widening of her eyes, Lambo knew she was taken aback. After all, it's not every day an infant demand to be handed a book titled quite blatantly, _Italian for Dummies_. She blinked for a while, but wordlessly did what she was told and pulled it out from its place, albeit a bit dazed.

Lambo, having no plans to be seen as a freak or a genius, latched onto the book and flailed it around as if fascinated by the color of the cover. Gurgling happily while cuddling it into his chest and mentally exhaled in relief when the nursemaid's look of shock melted to a fond one. She shook her head as if dispelling stray thoughts and placed a reassuring pat on his back before putting him back down next to his stuffed cow. Pecking his forehead, the nursemaid went back to folding towels.

This is why Nina is his favourite. She was the sweetest and the kindest soul out of all his caretakers. Spending a prolonged time with him despite the fact her shift had ended a while ago and had chosen to spend time with him out of her own free will. Sending those blocks flying across the room had only made him love her even more. It was Nina who made him laugh for the first time since his death and rebirth. When he'd been distressed over his predicament and acclimation, Nina was the one who helped make it easier. It was just…nice, having her around his presence.

Watching her go with an affectionate gaze and double-checking that she wasn't looking, Lambo crawled to a stealthy spot and hid the sight of him actually _reading_ the book. With a triumphant smile, Lambo opened the first pages of the book and started to learn, exploring the new language.

After all, Lambo still had so much time before he meets _Tsuna_.

* * *

After several months passed and long hours of studying, Lambo could say with confidence that he's gotten at least the basics down to heart. It was a shaky start as he didn't have a lot of materials to work with, but repeating it enough and listening close to Nina and the others, he'd grinned when he started to understand most of it.

It was a huge accomplishment to Lambo as he hadn't needed to furrow his brows anymore at the people talking over his head, trying and failing to understand a lick of what they were saying. Now that he could understand, it was understandable why he recoiled when he overheard his caretakers talking about a new visitor that wasn't just limited to his nursery unit or guards.

"Have you heard?" One of the older nurses, Rose, gushed to Nina.

"Hear what?" Nina asked from where she was brushing her hands with her apron.

"Miss Ottavia is coming to visit the Young Master!" The corpulent woman cheered, and Lambo lifted his head at the suddenly interesting topic.

Nina gasped in surprise, "Truly?"

"Yes," Rose agreed excitedly. "It's about time someone visited the little on, and I'm glad that it'll be Miss Ottavia who'll be the first to do so. We both know those parents of his won't be coming anytime soon."

She sighed with disdain, "Those heartless people."

Nina faltered, a despondent smile crossing her lips at her words. The infant only stared at them for a moment before sliding his eyes away. It…gets a bit redundant, seeing the pity in their eyes. Becoming wearier than annoyed at the increasing looks he gets. Like a constant reminder of what he's lost by becoming Lambo Bovino. A reminder that he'll no longer be able to get back the things he had as _Oliver_.

He'd accepted that his life was going to be different this time around and that the father wouldn't care and that the mother wouldn't be there. He'd prepared himself for that, he'd thought he was ready for that. It was with a dawning realisation that he came to the conclusion that he really hadn't. The disconnected bonds of this family unnerving to Lambo who'd recently _lost_ the ones he truly cared for. There was a perpetual grief in his chest at his loss.

For a brief moment, he wonders if he'll ever have—

"—but that's great!" Nina beamed. "I can't wait for Miss Ottavia to meet her nephew."

Lambo snapped his head up in shock, _her what now?_

"Though I do wonder why she decided to come now of all time. It's already been 6 months! I would have thought she'd visited sooner." Nina inquired, a concerned sheen in her eyes.

Rose hummed, "I heard the Bovino Boss had firmly told his sister to leave his son alone, lest he be influenced by Miss Ottavia's ideals and botch his plans for Young Master Lambo's upbringing. I heard she threw a fit at that."

_His father's sister?_ Lambo's pretty sure he's gaping at this point as he continued to listen to whatever his caretakers were saying. Torn between feeling giddy at the possibility of a family member that seemed to actually care or worried that she'd be no different from the cold man that had brought him into this world. Yet, Lambo couldn't deny the growing hope in his chest that dominated all thoughts, a smile brightening on his face. All he could think about was how _excited_ he was to meet his aunt.

And when the time came, Lambo hadn't expected it.

It had started with a _bang_ of a door that startled him to wit's end as it made him recall another set of memories of a man pointing a gun at him. At the piercing screams and blood-streaked everywhere beneath him as he gasped and _tried to breathe._ With a shaky breath, Lambo trailed a wary gaze at the person by the doorway, and swiftly blinked.

With a delicate hand on the door, a woman wearing a suit jacket and black knee-high pants hunched over herself. Black curly hair falling over her face like a curtain as her legs were spread to support her heaving weight. Panting like she had run a hundred miles just to reach his nursery room.

Lifting her head, Lambo marvelled at how beautiful she was. Almost like a carbon copy of his father except kinder and nicer and overall _brighter_. Brown eyes twinkled at the sight of him sitting dumbly at the floor, mouth sucking on a baby flash, and then grinned widely.

Nina jumped at the sudden noise, turning startled eyes at the newcomer and fumbled nervously.

"Miss Ottavia! You've arrived earlier than we expected." She exclaimed, causing the woman—_his aunt_, to giggle.

"I just couldn't wait any longer!" Ottavia yelled brightly, resting her eyes on Lambo who was still gazing at her with wide eyes.

With a nod, the woman walked towards him with confident steps, stopping before him with a clack of her short-heeled shoes. Bending her knees, Ottavia appeased to the child with a gentle smile and prodded a finger into his plumb hands as if a greeting.

"Hello, Lambo." Ottavia began, brown orbs glimmering. "I'm Ottavia. Your aunt!"

* * *

**A/N: Did you know that Aunt Ottavia is a real character in the KHR-universe? Although she was called 'Ottavio' rather than 'Ottavia', but I thought since there already is an Ottavio from the Varia side-story I should give her a different spelling. I just thought it would be nice to expand upon a character that was mentioned only once in the actual manga and since she's actually Lambo's aunt, I thought it was fitting. **

**Thanks for reading!**

**If your wondering, from when I last checked, I already have 7 chapters written for this story and reaches about +30,000 words. So I hope you'll look forward to those. After that, it'll be a slower updating period depending if I have time.**

**EDIT: My god, pasting stories in fanfiction does not come with italics, I had to personally hunt down all my italics again TAT**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Strange chapter I gotta say, hopefully good and ready to spice up the story a bit. ;D**

**I also wanted to thank you once again for your lovely favorites, followers and reviews. You guys are the true gems of the story! **

* * *

Aunt Ottavia was, in other words, the best thing that has ever happened to Lambo. She took him everywhere. To the mall, to the garden, to the park, just _everywhere._ It was _amazing_. Compared to his own aunt back when he was Oliver, Ottavia truly took the icing on the cake due to the degree she _cared_.

"Look, look, Lambo!" Ottavia beamed, raising him towards the pandas in the distance. "Aren't they _cute!"_

Lambo could only gurgle happily at the animals that day, but in truth, he couldn't help but drift his eyes back towards Ottavia. A growing warmth in his chest at this woman that had suddenly barged into his life and made it _better_. Affection, he declared this feeling on that day as he watched the twinkle in her eyes.

She was kind and so very _warm_. Telling him about her stories traveling the world and sharing her thoughts with him whenever he sits attentively in front of her. It was something Lambo needed in this slow, churning of time to a story that still hasn't rolled. Distracting him from all his conflicted thoughts, his father, the mafia and so much more. His anxieties lain forgotten in favour of listening to Ottavia.

"You're the cutest thing I've ever seen." Ottavia gushed with a blush on her face, squishing his cheeks together.

"Muh," Lambo had muffled out as he stared bedazzled at the woman.

Her squishing intensified at the sound.

Lambo ignored the teasing comment made by one of his nursemaids that he was manipulating Aunt Ottavia with his cuteness just to bask in her glow. He wasn't. Absolutely not.

Yet, there are times Ottavia also makes him…nervous. A darkness in her eyes as she pinches his cheeks, seeming to consider something before biting the inside of her cheeks in frustration. A sadness that appears that seems out of place in her face.

It was an afternoon. Lambo was enjoying the stories Ottavia was telling him from where he was perched on her lap. The pleasant timbre in her voice trailing off into an awkward silence that surprises Lambo. He tipped his head up, and found himself transfixed by the heavy look in her gaze as she stared at him.

Ah, Lambo uttered that time, that look again.

"I hope…" She started quietly from beneath a curtain of curly black hair. "I hope you know that you aren't obliged to do anything your father says one day."

Lambo stills, a chill going through his heart at the distant look in her eyes. Full of conviction, yet guilt and concern for him whilst brushing his cheeks.

"That whatever he says will not define you in the end. That the things he'll do won't _break_ you." Ottavia says while furrowing her brows as if recalling something painful.

He remembered the fear that crossed him at her foreboding words. A contempt in her eyes that makes him believe that the man that had brought him to this world was more than what Lambo had expected. That he was someone more inhumane and _dangerous_ than he already seemed to be.

As if sensing the infants distress, Ottavia swiftly smiled to wave the uneasiness away, only huffing to say dramatically, "But that's only because I hate him though!"

It wasn't quite as reassuring Lambo had wanted it to be. On the other hand, it cemented that Ottavia was someone that could be _trusted_ in the end. In some semblance of his mind, Lambo had started to warm up to the fact that Ottavia was practically his mother by now after seven months in her care. Despite this, Lambo still refers her as 'Aunt Ottavia' because it sounded right to do so. He ignored the part where he remembered his _real _mother, calm and kind, but strict only because she loved him. Different from _Maria_. No one could replace the woman who had raised him for so long. Lambo's heart _(—Oliver's—)_ clenched in grief the more he thought about it. Though looking at Ottavia, perhaps something new is happening here.

So when he turned one years-old, Lambo had given her the honours of speaking his first words to her and her only.

"Aunh Ohavia." It was a butchered version, but it worked as Ottavia had dropped her cup of coffee and stared at him with wide, brown eyes.

She then proceeded to squeal along with the nursemaids. Squeals turning into screams when Ottavia slipped on the very liquid she dropped, sending her careening to the floor besides his toys with a harsh _thump. _Lambo yelped, stumbling towards her prone form with wobbly steps and tapped her head, babbling 'aunh Ohavia' over and over again. Which promptly rejuvenated the woman, and before he knew it, Lambo had been sent airborne like a scene straight out of the _Lion King. _

Distantly, Lambo swore he heard the beginnings of the words _'It's a circle of life'_ being sung in the background.

"I'm _so _happy!" Ottavia had cried out, Nina trying and failing to keep calm at how 'Miss Ottavia your head is bruised!' and the remaining maids cleaning the floor less another accident happened.

It warmed his heart, to see the genuine love in her eyes, and it was because of this that he started to trust her. Lambo had started small, allowing her to get used to the fact he had another Italian book in his laps, and if not, an interesting book about animal biology or chemical reactions. At first, he had been cautious, noting down how Ottavia had hesitated the first time she saw the books scattered around him, tightening his grip on the pages at her reaction.

The tension melted when Ottavia had smiled instead after a brief moment, promising to bring him something of more interest later, not bothered by the fact that a one-and-a-half-year-old child was even reading something as intricate as the _Weaknesses of the Human Anatomy_.

His heart soared when Ottavia brought the entire edition of _The Lord of the Rings _for him, something even he hadn't had time for when he was still alive as Oliver, and rejoiced happily at the sight. Even the intellectual part of his brain needed a little magic once in a while to spice his interests. Ottavia had only smiled widely at the look, cooing at his excitement with a fond, "My little genius."

On the other hand, Lambo couldn't help but feel odd whenever she gives him that _look_. Conflicted eyes that followed his excitement, the worry brewing in them as she chewed her lips. It wasn't a malicious look, hardly, but more along the lines of not knowing what to do or that something wasn't going to end well. And it was always more prominent whenever they went out, sitting together in the white gazebo located in the Bovino gardens. Ottavia always looked over her shoulders like someone was following them, to a degree that was starting to concern Lambo. It was at this point that Lambo questioned if bringing his books along was a good idea, disking the fact that it was because of _this_ that warranted the paranoid expression to manifest on his aunt's face.

However, it was probably too late as his aunt had frozen up one day, knuckles turning white with how tightly she clenched her teacup. Threatening to shatter it with the strength of her grip. Ottavia's face had paled, lips pursed with an expression akin to horror and fear. Lambo startled at this, snapping his head to find the source that caused this terrifying reaction, abandoning the book about mathematics in search of the danger. It was brief, but Lambo swore he saw a glimpse of short curly hair and cold brown eyes disappearing around the corner. It was almost as if he saw…his _father._

"Lambo." Ottavia said suddenly, turning towards him fiercely. There was something in her eyes that made Lambo blink, something desperate and urgent, a sight that looked horrible on her face. She reached out, grabbing his arms and hands, and Lambo tried to hide his wince at how painful her grip was and refrained from crying out loud.

She turned him towards her roughly, breathing quickly.

"_Lambo. _Lambo, Whatever—you need to be careful, you need to keep that intellect hidden. Please. I can't protect you, and, and I—I can't _save_ you from this. If he finds out about this, he…he'll be _thrilled_." Lambo was silent when Ottavia hugged him close, raven hair falling over them both. As if hiding them both from the world.

There's a watery sheen in Ottavia's eyes, "Please be discreet. You can't let him know. You can't let him find out. That brother of mine…I can't fathom what he'll do."

And then she cried a little, whispering into his tuff of similar black hair starting to curl around the edges, quivering. As Lambo, he had been clueless on how to deal with the situation, confusion and fear paralysing him. It was as Oliver that he mustered the courage to loop his small arms around her, too tiny to go all the way around, but the gesture reciprocated anyways as Ottavia buried her head closer. Whispering prayers and apologies to him and Lambo wonders if he should cry too.

* * *

It was an evening night when Lambo finally understood his aunt's warning about keeping his intelligence discreet. Something he knew already as Oliver, but hadn't thought it to be that much of an importance.

_Until now. _

He had woken up one night, tired and sluggish as he gazed at the blue lit room around him. Shuffling around uneasily at waking up to the sound of the door closing with an ominous _click_. At first, Lambo had chalked it up as one of the maids checking up on him, but realizing that it's the middle of the night and that he lived in a world of the mafia, he'd rather be safe than sorry.

Squinting an eye open, Lambo hitched his breath when he saw a man standing by the doorway, motionless while moving their head to survey the nursery room. It was as if he was calculating, taking every little detail in the room and noting down his observations, _looking for something_. And when the man's gaze rested on Lambo, the infant had almost reacted in shock when he realised he was looking at his _father_.

It's been a year, almost two, without a visit from either of his parents, and now seeing him in his room? Lambo had felt suspicious, angry, and terrified when he remembered Aunt Ottavia's words echoing in his head. A foreboding feeling welled in his belly.

The man tilted his head, looking away in favour of casting another look around the room, face blank as a statue. He paused abruptly, as if he found what he was looking for as his mouth parted slightly, and kneeled down to pick it up. Lambo followed the motion, only to pale horrified when he saw it was one of his books he was reading, one with the title of _Theory of Knowledge. _Lambo had cursed himself, cursed himself because there were still more scattered out there, hidden underneath the couches and he _forgot to hide one of them_.

His fear escalated when Lambo watched his father catch the edge of another book hidden underneath where Lambo hid it, latching onto it and dragging it out. The man had stared at it before pulling more out in his search, fingers tracing the titles of each book found in a slow, careful manner. He then lifted his head up. Lambo snapped his eyes shut tightly, pretending to sleep and hoping that his father would dismiss it as one of the maids having forgotten to put it back after reading them.

Lambo could hear his father stand up, the sound of fabric brushing against each other from the action. Silence drifted again, only to stop with the soft clacks of shoes meeting the wooden floor, coming closer and closer till it stopped just before his crib. Lambo's heart quickened, feeling and hearing the way his heart went _thump, thump, thump_, and tried to quell the cosmic urge to open his eyes when the sound of hands clamping on either side of his crib sounded out. Creaking creepily the more weight being applied to it.

Sad to say, Lambo had succumbed to his urges anyways.

Opening his eyes, Lambo's heart nearly stopped when his father's face appeared right before him. Leaning over the crib, just above the fences as his cold eyes dissected him. Lambo could only stare back, too terrified to look away as he held his breath when the man blinked slowly, pulling back as if confounded by the eyes staring back at him. Lambo had almost been relieved at the act, about to breath when the quirk of the man's lips made him freeze again. His father smiled, menacing and gleeful in equal parts and wide brown eyes brightening, the corners curving in hair-raising pleasure.

It chilled Lambo to the bones.

"My child," His father had spoken, and Lambo had jumped at that. "My son."

A wild glint shone through those cold eyes, "_My_ _little genius."_

Lambo had never felt so ill at hearing those words. Something that had usually sounded fond and endearing from his aunt, now twisted to sound like an abominable _curse_. Lambo wanted to puke.

With a last look at his father's delighted expression, the man pulled back suddenly, stepping away. Clacks of his shoes receding, growing fainter before the sound of the door opened once more, and Lambo followed the leaving back of his father. The man stopped for a minute, looking back with scheming eyes before leaving with a final, parting smile.

The door closed with an echoing _click_.

Instead of relief, Lambo couldn't help but feel like he sealed his fate to a terrible future.

* * *

"I think," Lambo whispered to his aunt the next morning. "That I've made a terrible mistake."

Ottavia had paused, brows furrowed in confusion before realisation took a hold of her, and an expression of pure despair crossed her beautiful face. That expression alone made the dread in Lambo's heart to feel heavier _(—and the sound of Oliver screaming in his head to resound—)._

* * *

It was a couple of months later when everything changed. His father reappearing with men at his heels, ordering them to take his stuff and move them to somewhere else. Lambo had trembled when those dark brown eyes landed on him again, a smile appearing on those lips as he made a move to grab him when his aunt stepped between them, face thundering with anger.

"Don't you dare!" She yelled.

"Ottavia. _Move_." The Bovino Boss demanded with frigid eyes, poorly concealed distaste for his sister.

"You can't do this!" Ottavia glared, daring him to try while standing firm and tall before the mafia boss.

"I'm his father, of course I can." He replied in turn, jerking his head to his men to take his aunt away.

Lambo stood with weak legs, moving to hide behind his crib less a fight broke out. Ignoring Oliver's insistence to run and run now, tensing when one of the men grabbed Ottavia by the arm and pulled her along, causing a growl to resound from her lips.

"Let go!" She screamed, swearing when the subordinate pulled especially hard.

When she saw her brother move for her nephew again, Ottavia grinded her teeth, "_Claudio!" _

Everyone in the room stopped at the furious roar, even his father who twisted his face, annoyance painting his usually blank face.

"He's not one of your damned experiments! You can't treat him that way!" His father, Claudio, rounded on her.

"And _you _promised to report to me when you saw potential!" Claudio hissed coldly. "We made a deal, Ottavia."

Lambo widened his eyes at those words, turning to stare at his aunt who only narrowed her eyes at her brother in reply.

"So? Just because he has potential now, you've started to care? It's been _two years_, Claudio. _More than that!_ And now you've decided to show up. If you wanted someone to report to you about your _son's fucking potential, _then you should have done it yourself!" Ottavia screamed. "But no, _I've_ been taking care of him and I won't let you hurt him!"

If Lambo had thought Claudio's face had usually been cold, then his face turned absolute glacial at her words. A sneer broke out; disdain clear to see as he turned around to glare over his shoulders.

"Subdue her." Claudio ordered.

Without another a word, his men pinned Ottavia to the floor, making her cry out in pain.

"Aunt Ottavia!" Lambo garbled out in worry, moving to help her only to stop dead in his tracks when his father stepped towards him, grabbing him viciously from the floor.

Lambo cried out, feeling the world twist around him before he was shoved into one of the guards, pressed painfully to their chest. He trashed in panic, babbling a bunch of no's, every rational thought flying right over his head to cry out to his aunt that cried with him, arms flailing to reach her. His emotions were controlling him, and Lambo didn't know how to stop, to remain calm. That he shouldn't be as hysteric as he is at the moment.

"Pick one." Claudio demanded, eyeing the few maids trembling by the side-lines, eager to help their lady. "Pick one you won't regret."

Lambo had only sobbed.

"I said," Claudio snarled as he closed in on Lambo. "_Pick one."_

At the irate order, Lambo weepingly stuttered out a heart wrenching, "_Nina._"

As if a summon, Nina all but rushed for him, snatching him from the brutal hold the subordinate had over him with a ferocious look. In his relief to at least have someone trusting to hold, Lambo buried into her shoulder and sobbed.

"I hope you picked well." Claudio had said with a cold smile. "I wouldn't want you to regret this later after all."

And with that, they had been forced out of the room, away from his haven, away from his warm memories and away from his aunt that screamed down the hallway for him.

Lambo could only watch the dark look in his father's eyes, and fear for his life.

* * *

**A/N: Welp. *Sweats* I hope Lambo's OK the next chapter...HAHA!**

**I hope you guys enjoyed it!**

**See yah next time ;D**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Ahaha, I'm sorry for the wait. It just grew really busy the last couple of months and I unfortunately have to give you guys notice that the updates might be dragged out a bit due to having my mock exams soon which I HAVE to focus on. I really want to do well, and I'll try to make time for this when I have breaks in between. **

**Again, I want to thank you guys for your support and amazing favourite, follow and reviews. **

**I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!**

* * *

To Lambo's relief, nothing happened the first week in his new room that his father—_Claudio—_placed him in. Yet, he found himself unable to relax, not when Lambo knew Claudio was up to something. Even Nina was worried over his safety, evident through her concerned muttering and nervous wringing of her apron as she paced back and forth. Growing teary eyed when Lambo expresses a single hint of stress or misery at his aunt's absence before swooping in to hug him. At the fear that shows through once in a while whenever Lambo thinks about Claudio's schemes, and it was wearing him thin.

The room he was placed in, the _jail_, was gloomy compared to his bright coloured nursery room. Walls a maroon red and a bed with plain white sheets, no longer a crib, but an honest to go _master bed_ for the two years-old. So very artificial in its making. Lambo hadn't slept well the first couple of days.

At the side of the room, there was a desk, a chair and a window overlooking a vast garden that allows Lambo to breathe a little at the view. Framed by long dark curtains that looked heavy from a far and even heavier once he tugged at it. And at the wall from across his bed, there's a door that leads straight to Nina's room,

At the side of the room, there was a desk, a chair and a window overlooking a vast garden that allows Lambo to breathe at the view. Framed by long dark curtains that looked heavy from a far and even heavier once he tugged at it. And at the wall across from his bed, there's a door that leads straight to Nina's room if he ever needed her for something. At the side, there was a built in wardrobe that was much bigger than Lambo expected one he had thrown it open to see the sheer depth of it.

It was hardly plain though with the rich canopy hanging over the bed and the soft flooring underneath him. The grand double door that astonishes him as he gazes up, up and _up_. Marvelling at the tall entity that was supposed to be his _doorway_.

Lambo had been overwhelmed. Mostly Oliver who had compared it to a real-life princess room except edgier than what you would stereotypically see.

It _wasn't_ a reassuring thought.

Nor was the idea that Lambo would no longer be able to see Aunt Ottavia.

A worry crosses him as the last sight he had of Ottavia was her pained face pressed against the floor and her desperate screams ringing through his ears. Lambo wonders if she's alright after that encounter. If she's safe and not hurt. Lambo couldn't ask Claudio as the man hadn't visited even once during his time stuck in this godforsaken jailhouse.

However, it was only a few days later when his father came, his still form hovering outside his doorway like a spectre observing the living. Lambo raised his shoulders warily at the sudden appearance, trying to depict what he wanted while Claudio did the same. It was a showdown between father and son whose eyes held nothing but the same calculative gleam.

Lambo's hatred for their similarities grew.

"Your tutor is here." Claudio had only announced once he finished his observations, revealing a bland suited man standing beside him.

Lambo reeled back incredulously at his words, wondering seriously if Claudio was actually going to sick a tutor at him at this time of age? Is he _crazy_? He's still only two despite his older mentality that gave him this supposed intelligence Claudio's been enamoured with!

"Master Bovino, you can't be serious!" Nina burst out for Lambo's sake. "He's still but a child—an _infant!" _

The Boss of the Bovino Famiglia glowered poisonously at her, "_Be silent. _You have no rights in questioning my authority. Do you want to be exiled from my son's care?"

"N-No, sir." At his threat, Nina lowered her head with watery eyes, trembling with fear under Claudio's glare.

Lambo fisted the fabric of his pants to steel the anger that coursed through him at the sight.

"Lambo." The man turned back towards his son sitting at the edge of his bed. "I expect good results from you."

Once Claudio got his message out, he was quick to exit his room when Lambo jumped out of his bed.

"Wait!"

The man paused, coldly staring back at him with brown eyes. Lambo breathed in deeply, tightening his small fists.

"What have you done with Aunt Ottavia?" Lambo questioned with narrowed eyes.

Claudio gazed at him silently, mouth set in a thin line with contemplation. There was a moment of silence that leaves Lambo uncomfortable, but it was through his concern for Ottavia that drove him to stare resolutely forwards. Unwilling to back down despite the intimidating nature that was Claudio.

"Nothing." Claudio answered after a while. "However, don't concern yourself with that woman, it's not like you'll see her again."

And with that, the man walked out the door, leaving Lambo to helplessly watch him go with a growing despair in his chest. Deaf to the voice of his middle-aged tutor telling him to get to his desk with apathetic eyes. Only hearing Claudio's last words on repeat as he stared into thin air. It was only through the tutors threat to report his behaviour to his father, something that he knew logically would end very badly for Lambo, that made him drag his small legs across the span of the room. Nina hovering distraught over his expressionless face before being dismissed by his tutor, forcing her to linger by her door for a second before leaving with a pinched face.

This continued for weeks, months, every day with the tutor coming in and teaching Lambo what he needed to know. Luckily enough, most of things that's being taught to him was something he already knew from his extensive knowledge collected by Oliver. Starting easily with simple maths and terms, history that was the exact same, and sciences that he excelled in. Some languages he studied at school that was a bit more difficult. And just when Lambo had gotten a hang of it, the problems grew harder, growing in complexity and detail. History branching out to all kinds of places, including mafia history and its own theories. He had studied hard, trying to keep up and get them all correct until he finally got one—

"_-wrong_. The Klaida Settimo was Muev." His tutor had stated one day, sounding suspiciously pleased.

Lambo had only lowered his head in apology. Instead of accepting it like he had initially thought, the man grabbed a metal ruler out and ordered him to put his hands out. When he did, the man struck them.

Lambo cried out when the ruler met his knuckles, pulling them close to his chest. There was a moment of pain that seemed to last for ages before disappearing into a pulsing numbness and Lambo threw an alarmed look at his tutor that only grinned horribly.

"Hope you get it right the next time." The man says sardonically, placing the ruler down on the desk in clear warning of what would happen next.

Lambo bit his lips, feeling the way his fingers throbbed, already turning a cherry red from the impact. Everything about this felt wrong, vile, and Lambo wanted to scream at the man. To tell him that this wasn't right. However, staring at those dark eyes (—cold, cold, just like his father's—), Lambo had no choice but to do as he was told. If only to escape the pain for a little longer. No matter how much the part of him as Oliver wanted to lash out at the man.

* * *

Months in, Lambo was beginning to feel exhausted as he studied his hands. Sitting hunched by the edge of the bed in a trance. Fingers twitching as their swollen parts looked an ugly purple, and each time he tried to bend them, pain screamed out. With drooping eyes, Lambo tried to pick up the paper he had dropped earlier—his homework for today—and flinched, trembling as the paper slipped out of his grip.

Staring at it, there was moment of shocked daze before Lambo buried his eyes into his palms. Headful of his fingers that faced the ceiling as he took deep, shallow breaths. Everything felt so surreal to him, almost like a long nightmare that he wants desperately to escape from. He wishes Aunt Ottavia could be here to bring something to his life, more than the hollow feeling that corrodes into his very being. To feel her warmth and see her smile that has more than once comforted him in the worst of days.

Lambo looked up slowly, wavering when he saw his reflection from the mirror placed in front of him, and felt a great dislike at what he saw.

God, he was but a child. Large toddler eyes staring straight back at him with a tiredness seen only in adults, emerald like his birth mother that has long since left. Black hair curled around his ears and neck, contrasting against his pale skin that is in dire need of some exposure to the sun, and a hashtag birthmark adorning the left side of his cheekbone. Like an exact copy of his father—except slimmer and softer, a delicacy inherited from his mother, Maria.

Lambo felt sick to his bones. Wondering if anyone would force their own child to be groomed like he was, a mere two-year-old _infant_ no less. It was mad. Even when he knew the Arcobaleno themselves were only around the ages of one to four, capable of incredible feats with their small bodies much like his. On the other hand, it was _Oliver _that couldn't wrap his head around that excuse. It went against everything he was taught while growing up: to take care of people, to know that this wasn't normal and that it wasn't right.

That he grew up watching his younger cousins and their uniquely different ideas and thoughts. Taking care of them and babysitting them with utmost care and humouring words as he watched them grow up to become the people they are today—or then, that is. That there was no _need_ for suffering and pain to accomplish that. He's seen enough what this _hurt_ can do to a child. Seen enough papers, news and research to know that they'll grow up to be broken. Detached. Even if he was mentally older, what would happen in the long run? He still had the body of a child and a developing brain too. All those neurological pathways, hormones, growth spurts and everything in between. Just how much will this upbringing fuck up his physical and emotional spectrum? The implications were _endless_.

It was the sound of the doors opening that snapped Lambo back to the living, trapped air shuddering out from his lips as he whirled towards it with wide eyes. Lambo quickly glanced back and forth between his fingers and Nina that came in through the doorway with a growing nervousness. She was distracted, carrying a serving tray in her hands while balancing the contents hidden inside with an oval lid. Once she kicked the door closed, her pale face brightened upon the sight of him. The happy hum she came in with died quickly when she saw his blackening fingers, and gasped horrified.

"Young Master Lambo!" Nina shrieked, hurrying to his side to inspect his bruised fingers. In her haste, she nearly spilled the contents of the tray with how carelessly she slammed the tray on top of the bedside table before kneeling down next to him.

She gently cupped his hands, lips curled as if preventing herself from crying outright.

"W-We need to put ointment for this." With quivering hands, Nina pulled on the drawer of the bedside table. Reaching inside, the maid pulled a first aid kit from it, having long gotten used to her young master's growing injuries. While Nina pulled out the appropriate things to use for the bruises, Lambo watched her with muted silence. Letting soft hands to hold his own with such care that Lambo couldn't help but wonder if he looked fragile to her. Breakable.

Lambo closed his eyes, taking the time to calm his conflicted feelings on the matter as he felt the salve getting applied on his skin.

"What have they done to you?" Nina whispered as she bruised over the bruises, tears already gathering at the edges of her beautiful eyes, before being frantically rubbed away with the sleeves of her dress.

Lambo widened his eyes at the tears and flustered waved his hands in an attempt to console her, "Don't cry, Nina. It's OK."

At the sound of his _infant_ voice, Nina hitched her breath in anger, "No, it's not!"

As if startled by her own voice, Nina wilted in on herself.

"No child should deserve this." She whispered out.

"Nina…" Lambo spoke softly, only to hiss in pain when she started wrapped his fingers with bandages.

"I wish I could help." Nina lowered her eyes at his small hands, pain stricken at the sight of them. "I wish for you to be happy, Young Master."

"I know, Nina. I know." He replies. It was hard not to when all he's heard from her is that exact phrase in the last couple of weeks. Lambo mustered the brightest smile he could. "Please don't cry. I would hate to see someone important to me be sad. So please, wipe those tears away. I'm positive I'll be fine. You don't have to worry, Nina."

Nina looked at him with an expression full of doubt. Blue-grey eyes swirling with all kinds of emotions before she dutifully wiped the tears away. She took a deep breath in and shook her head to dispel the blue mood. A hesitant smile graced her lips and Lambo grinned at the sight.

There was a moment of companionable silence before Nina burst up with a startled 'oh'. Putting a fist into the palm of her hands in remembrance.

"I almost forgot!"

Whirling around to face towards the nightstand, Nina grew excited.

"I have something for you, Young Master!"

With a curious tilt of his head, Lambo eyed the tray that was brought over. Held delicately in both of her hands as she presented it towards him. Nina opened the lid with fervour, and the boy blinked at the sight. It was a cake. Decorated in beautiful sets of edible red and white roses, strawberries and cherries scattered around in a spring theme. In the middle, there stood three unlit candles as if celebrating something.

Lambo failed to understand, "I…what is this, Nina?"

Nina's expectant face dropped, "I, this is—you can't have forgotten, have you, Young Master?"

At Lambo's blank expression, Nina lowered her tray in trepidation. "It's May, Young Master, it's—it's the 25th…it's your _birthday_."

It suddenly dawned on Lambo who had forgotten, and to make it worse, he blurted out a surprised, "It is?"

Nina's dismay and horror amplified to the point she had to put her tray down to fling herself at him while bursting into another set of tears. Lambo spread his arms out in alarm as he caught her, trying to preserve his fingers from getting jolted as he sat with Nina crying in his arms. Bawling at his supposed hesitancy and childlike wonder at the sudden reveal, as if something magical happened for the first time in his life.

"Young Master, I'm so sorry!" Nina cried out inconsolably.

Lambo sighed, biting his lips at how he'll defuse this situation without appearing even more vulnerable. He didn't know a way to breach the subject that he hadn't forgotten his birthday, at least, not his old one. Instead, Lambo murmured softly into Nina's golden hair, telling her that it's OK and that it wasn't her fault—trying to lull her cries again. It only made her cry harder, her wails louder, and Lambo couldn't understand why this was the case.

* * *

After the disaster he called a birthday, Lambo was surprised when he found out that he's been summoned the next day—by his father no less. Something about a nice friendly talk together in a rather harmless environment. Lambo had called bullshit as he allowed Nina to dress him up in his best clothes. Throwing on a white button-up shirt, knee-length pants, black slacks and white stockings pulled just below the knee. Tucking his neck up, Nina then wrapped a black ribbon around his neck that trailed down his torso.

Lambo scrunched his face at that, disliking the fact that it made him feel like a fluffed kitten ready to be gifted to a belated child. Even more affronted when Nina gushed how adorable it made him look. Pouting, Lambo crossed his arms, careful with his wrapped fingers and threw his head to the side. He doesn't _want_ to look cute, he wants to look deadly, ferocious and ready to commit murder with his eyes alone. After all, they _are _a poisonous green.

Glancing quietly up from his short bangs, Lambo noted that Nina looked much better than she did yesterday. He sighed in relief. Lambo didn't know what to do if Nina had cried again.

"Young Master Lambo, it's time to depart." She informed with a polite bow.

Lambo fiddled with his ribbon.

"You…can just call me Lambo, you know." Lambo commented shyly. "You're family, after all."

At the admission, Nina straightened her back quickly, wide eyes cast at her young charge. At her lack of response, Lambo started to shuffle his legs nervously, wondering if he had said something wrong.

Instead, a gentle smile erupted from his maid, and with another bow, she said, "I am honoured with your permission, and will gladly agree if this only occurs in private, Young Master."

Lambo nodded enthusiastically, understanding her point of view with different status and all.

"Well then," Nina tilted her head to the side with bright eyes, holding the door with one hand out. "Let's get going...Lambo."

At the sound of his name, title gone, Lambo couldn't help but beam. It was like feeling normal again, without needing the worries of status weighing him down and the fact he was an adult in a child's body—and it felt amazing. It reminds him of Aunt Ottavia, who had always laughed, cried, and sang his name with only warm intentions, and he wonders once again how she's doing. Shaking his head, Lambo decided not to dwell less he depressed himself, and walks out of his room.

The stroll to his father's office was a long one, a couple of minutes of just twisting and turning through endless hallways that never seemed to seize, and the more it continues, the more nervous he grew. And when he grew nervous, he fiddled with anything he could find, which is currently his sleeves. Nina only sent him a reassuring gaze at the habit, but Lambo knew better. She was just as nervous as he was.

It was several minutes later before Lambo found himself facing a big doorway, fancier than his own, and he knew logically that this was his destination. Nina patted his shoulder once in encouragement and started backing away.

"I will see you soon, Lambo." She said softly, and Lambo refrained from childishly grabbing her dress to prevent her from leaving him alone, watching blankly as she left.

Lambo turned his head back towards the door, breathing deeply in preparation and made his way towards the door before he makes Claudio wait any longer. Bracing his hands against the door, Lambo pushed.

The office was big with open windows gushing light from the back of the expanse, bookcases lining up from both sides of the wall, and in the middle sat his father. Lambo tensed at the man sitting calmly behind his desk, the sun on his back casting shadows over his face. The man in question only watched him with blank eyes before a false quirk of his lips made its way towards Lambo. The Don of the Bovino Famiglia nodded at the chair in front of his desk, like it wasn't conveniently placed just for him.

"Take a seat." Claudio said with his fingers interlocked.

Lambo squared his shoulders, forcing his legs to walk the length of the room for his chair that faced his father dead on. Green eyes were held carefully blank as he sat down.

"You've grown." His father stated after a moment. Lambo placed his hands politely over his lap in reply, a poise that belonged characteristically to his aunt. By the annoyed tick in Claudio's eye at the familiar stance, no doubt recognizing it, Lambo refrained from smiling smugly at him.

"I would hope so." Lambo bit out before snapping his mouth shut just as quick when he realised what he had said.

Claudio only hummed, unbothered by the rudeness, "Apologies. It's just been awhile since I've last seen you. I thought we could celebrate your birthday as it occurred yesterday. Again, my apologies for missing it. I've been rather busy."

Lambo stilled, confused by the sincere apology from the man. Yet, the bafflement never lasted as his eyes sharpened, distrust growing in his chest. Claudio was not a man that would make amends such as these from what Lambo's observed. Especially not to his own son who was nothing but a 'experiment' to him if Aunt Ottavia's words were to be true.

Lambo looked cautiously down.

"It's alright. Birthdays are just another date in the year—it's no different from yesterday or tomorrow, or the day after. It…really doesn't matter." Lambo appeased, glancing up from underneath his bands, and nearly grimaced when Claudio's face twisted in approval at his words.

"Smart boy." Claudio complimented with mirth gleaming out from his eyes.

Lambo stopped stalling in fear the conversation would lead to somewhere even worse, "What's the real reason you've called me for, sir?"

His father quirked a brow at this, "You're quite well spoken for a three year-old. Strange sight."

Lambo ignored the curiosity in his eyes, as if trying to dissect him and figure out every little thing about him. Claudio leaned back in disappointment when Lambo failed to reply, "However, you're right. I did call you here for other reasons than just to wish you a belated birthday. Or un-belated, considering your earlier words."

Claudio's face fell blank, brown eyes gone cold as they stared down at Lambo, "I want you to partake in a small experiment of mine."

As the words sunk in, Lambo froze, hardly believing what he was hearing. This is what Aunt Ottavia warned him about, his father's experiments, and now it's finally coming to light. Lambo gripped the fabric of his pants, green eyes glaring as they set his father—this man with hostility.

"What kind of experiment." Lambo demanded, refusing to give in despite the hard look that was sent his way.

Claudio observed him before closing his eyes. He pushed his chair back to graph something from under his desk and Lambo tensed. He didn't relax even when he saw a harmless-looking box appear from under the edge, completely black and sleek in appearance. The man placed the box on the table and slid it forward with a indiscernible gaze and Lambo wanted to tear at him to express _something_. Eyeing the box, Lambo soon blinked when Claudio opened it, revealing two wristbands inside. They were obsidian in colour, metallic and simple in design, and from the size of it, they were a perfect fit for his wrists. Lambo raised his head, glaring suspiciously at him (—so _very_ suspicious, Oliver his through his mind—).

"What is it?"

Claudio tilted his head with an enigmatic smile, "It's the Bovino's latest creation, and I made it especially with you in mind."

"That doesn't answer my question." Lambo snapped, watching the way Claudio's face grew frigid in return.

"It's to monitor your process." Came the cryptic response. "Now then, do you agree to this or not?"

Lambo knew better than to agree, especially when the man avoided his previous question with a vague answer. It was insulting to be dismissed so readily in favour of what Claudio really wanted. That Claudio truly believed that in the end, Lambo didn't have a choice or even _think_ of refusing.

From Claudio's perspective, perhaps it seemed that Lambo was easy to manipulate or control—_children _are easy to manipulate after all. They're learning at that age, they're adapting, and they _can_ be conditioned. Claudio seems like the type that would readily condition his children for the sake of his own gains, and from what has been observed so far, he _is _that sort of person.

Lambo didn't trust it.

At all.

So with the wisdom of a 27 year-old, Lambo stood up to leave.

"No. I won't be a part of your experiments or whatever you're planning." Lambo rejected harshly with a sharp glare at Claudio. "Not if you're going to be vague about it."

Lambo turned to stomp out of here when Claudio spoke up, seizing his depart.

"And what if, as a trade-off, I let you see my dear sister again?" The man inquired, tone evocative.

Lambo whirled around with green eyes wide with shock, breath hitching and mouth opening in slack-jawed want.

"You'll let me see...Aunt Ottavia?" Lambo whispered, scared of the hope welling inside his chest.

Claudio smiled, "Yes. Only if you agree to my little pet project."

The boy bit his lips, knowing better than to fall for the other's manipulations. At the clear _trap_ laid out for him. Lambo knew that Claudio was using his aunt against him because he loves her. It was working, Lambo thought with gritted teeth, as the offer was very tempting.

Don't do it, Oliver said. Don't do it, Lambo agreed.

He did it anyways.

"…Fine. I'll do it. Just—Just don't break your promise." Lambo said weakly, regretting his words the moment they escaped his lips. It was for the reason that when they did, Claudio's smile grew absolutely _thrilled_.

"As long as you don't break yours." Claudio replied.

The man leaned back in his chair, staring keenly as Lambo reached hesitantly for the metal wristbands on the table. Lambo eyed them, touching the cold and smooth surface of the thin wristband. Feeling nervous and uneasy at the sight of them. Swallowing his fears, Lambo started putting them on with shaking fingers. Repeating a desperate mantra of 'this was the right choice' to keep some form of comfort of why he was doing this and not because he was some kind of an idiot. The black wristband snapped shut with an apprehensive _click_, hugging snuggly around his small wrists. He gave them a suspicious look while brushing over the new accessory.

"Now what?" Lambo questioned in a fit of awkwardness and fear of the unknown, a strange tingle traveling up his arms.

Claudio only smiled.

Static shock hit him like a truck as Lambo suddenly went down onto his knees. A blinding whiteness dancing across his sights as the scream that tried to sound out—died on his lips. Instead, it left him choking as he collapsed to the floor. The feeling of a hundred pencils stabbing him at every nook and cranny as he lay there, convulsing and jerking his limbs. The muscles in his body contracting against their own will as he gave a strangled scream.

_It was painful_.

An unmeasurable pain that leaves him wishing for it to stop. Stop. _Stop. I'll die. I'll die. I DON'T WANT TO DIE—_

And just like that, it disappeared.

Leaving small little Lambo shuddering against the floor.

The Bovino Boss walked around his desk, grazing his fingers gently across the surface of his table as if posing for a photo shoot, head tilted at Lambo's pitiful form.

"You survived. I guess your proficiency in lighting is demonstrated to be true. I thought it would, as Maria and I both have it." Claudio explained with a vicious gleam. "That will happen every few days in your evening, electric shock coursing through your body and leave you writhing on the floor—just like this. In the possibility that you might die from a cardiac arrest, you'll be sent to the hospital wing in repair. I don't want you to end in failure after all."

Lambo breathed hard with horrified green eyes, "W-why?"

"Why?" The man echoed confused for a moment, a twisted smile on his face. "I mean...wouldn't it be amazing if you became a living, _lightning rod?"_

And that's when Lambo knew he fucked up. Badly. Body twitching as he tried to pull himself up to no avail and could only hold back the tears that threatened to escape through his tightly shut eyes. Lambo sunk back to the floor, mind in a haze.

Don't faint, Oliver had whispered. Don't faint, Lambo had agreed, seeing through blurry eyes at Claudio.

Why does he always fail to yield for what he asked for?

* * *

When Lambo woke up, he found himself on a hospital bed with the artificial lights shining over his head, causing green eyes to winch at the brightness of it al. He blinked slowly, shuffling to sit up while the blanket draped over him pooled around his lap. Wondering to himself what happened to cause him to land on a bed in the Bovino's hospital wing. It at the sight of the black wristbands that made him remember that occurred that made Lambo curse. Violently.

That bastard, Lambo seethed with burning cheeks. Clutching the blanket in his hand tightly and glaring down at the wristbands. Lambo gritted his teeth. Stupid! He was stupid to fall for that man's trap, utterly stupid! Latching his fingers onto the shock band, Lambo tugged harshly at the item, dead set on removing it by force when he drew back with a sharp cry. Green lightning crackled across his skin around his wrist, shocking him—different from the first time that made him genuinely fear that he was_ going to die again_. Fingers tingling, Lambo eyed the new angry vine like marks trailing across his arms in pink trails that resembled lightning bolts. Behind them were older ones, looking whiter than their newer counterparts, and Lambo knew they were from earlier.

_Goddammit_.

With a frustrated growl, Lambo made a move to rip the band again, consequences be damned. The disgust overwhelming him as he latched onto it, preparing himself for the pain. However, Lambo failed when a hand stopped him from trying again, fingers curling around them tightly. Looking up, Lambo was about to shake the person off and tell them to let go when his words died on his lips. The person looking back at him was none other than—

"Aunt...Ottavia?" Lambo breathed in disbelief.

Aunt Ottavia looked gorgeous like always with her black wavy hair and heart-shaped face, but simultaneously, wrecked. Clothes rumpled like she had just woken up from where she sat on the chair besides him, dark bags gathering underneath her eyes. Eyes that looked at him with alarm, shining from the tears starting to collect on her eyelashes.

"Lambo." Ottavia replied wobbly, trying to hold back her tears.

There was regret lacing her tone of voice, a contrast with the relief that seemed to sigh out. A relief that quickly dwindled when Ottavia lowered her eyes in self-condemnation when Lambo failed to answer back. Lips quivering when she took in his black wristbands and new scars. A blatant mark that she had failed her job to protect her nephew. Ottavia hitched her breath, lowering her head, "I'm sorry, Lambo, this is all my fault. I should have done something, and yet, I didn't. I let—I let him take you, I let him, oh gods, I did._ I let him take_."

Lambo watched with shock as his aunt broke down, sobbing to herself as she gripped his hand tightly. His kind and beautiful aunt, hunching over herself like all the world's problems were thrust upon her shoulders. One hand covered her face to hide the misery and exhaustion from her face.

"Your aunt failed you. Auntie failed you, Lambo. _Please_ forgive me, I'm sorry—"

"That's enough!" Lambo cried out, throwing his arms around his aunt that was finally _here_. His aunt that hadn't looked at him like a freak or an experiment when he revealed his Oliver-high intelligence. Only quirking a brow at it, smile, and then cherished him instead. Aunt Ottavia that took care of him, knew what he was like, and treated him like her own son. Not like Nina who only started to see him as something other than just her young master. Not Claudio who saw him as his experiment to further his interest. Just Aunt Ottavia. Kind and beautiful Ottavia.

Losing her six months ago had been a _nightmare_.

"It's not your fault!" He said next, burying his face against her shoulder in a desperate hold. It's by no means her fault that he let himself be tricked this way. It was nobody's fault for what's happened so far. It's not Nina's. And it's definitely not hers. Lambo was sick and tired of everyone apologizing to him. Tired of seeing Nina helpless. Tired of seeing Claudio's scheming eyes. Tired of seeing his aunt blaming herself. Tired of being seen as _vulnerable_.

He was Oliver before he was ever Lambo. An adult that made his own decisions since the time he turned 18 years-old and moved out to pursue his dreams. An adult that died saving someone else because he _chose to _step in front of someone_. _He might be three years-old now, different from his first life, and under a different name, it does not disregard the fact that he chose this too. Even if it was a stupid decision, even if it ended with him being hurt, and even if it ended with him being experimented—it brought his aunt back, and that was what he decided. Even if it sounds twisted, Lambo wanted this, wanted her next to him.

Ottavia wept into his crown of black hair at his words, muttering series of 'I'm sorry' and 'My precious boy' as if asking for his forgiveness over and over again. Even when he already did, nothing seemed to calm his distraught aunt. Lambo could only hug her back in comfort, and Oliver could only remain strong for her, both of them reassuring her that it would all be alright.

After all, Lambo only needed to wait a little longer.

A little longer before he sees eyes that reflected the sunset. Of a young teen destined for something more than what was dished out at him.

Just a little longer.

* * *

**A/N: Poor Lambo. I can't believe I'm doing this to him TAT**

**On the other hand, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and see you guys later for the next one! I'll remind again that the updating might be delayed due to my focus being shifted to my education, so I hope that's quite alright with you guys! **

**Teaser:**

_**"I have a hit for you."**_


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Gosh, you guys are amazing. I can't thank you guys enough for the favorites and follows and the reviews. I'm sorry if I haven't been answering your reviews considering I've been swamped with so many papers lately (It's ridiculous, I have 4 research papers to do *screeches*) and tests to study for. I truly am grateful for them, and I will definitely reply whenever I have time and when I'm not stressing out about my loaded work. **

**Other than that, enjoy the newest chapter!**

* * *

Those wristbands Claudio gave him? They're a pain in Lambo's non-existent ass.

They hurt. To the point Lambo was seriously contemplating on throwing himself off the nearest cliff and end it all. _Again._ As each time his wristband gave a beep, Lambo would always drop right after with a choked scream. Arches of lightning snapping into the air as he proceeded to spasm on the floor.

Alone the first couple of days.

It was torture as the electrocution seems to last forever to the young Bovino, but in reality, only a few seconds at most. Each time without fail leaving him a crying, sobbing mess on the floor, mentally begging for this torture to end.

He had wanted to keep this a secret from Nina, and especially from Aunt Ottavia that already has enough worries than to go through another episode of self-loathing. Disappearing each evening in fear of his wristbands activating in front of them both. The fact Claudio didn't give him a fixed time in the evening for the shocks left Lambo a nervous wreck— a feat that did nothing to curb his already distraught feelings over the whole ordeal.

On the other hand, the first couple of days passed on fine. The hospital-wing his new official haven whenever the episodes came. In fact, it made the check-ups go much faster as the doctors were close by to immediately assist in any medical needs. Rushing in to brush Sun flames across his skin that leaves Lambo startled the first time he saw them. It had been his first time, as in seeing _real _dying will flame as they healed the burns and new lightning bolts (—_Lichtenberg scars, Oliver informs him, that's what those are called_—) around his body and especially his wrists.

It should have relieved him, seeing the bright yellow flames and the medical professionals vanishing the hurt away.

_But it didn't._

Not when their faces reflected the same cold countenance he sees in Claudio. The artificiality of their flames brushing against his skin causing shudders to wreck his body as he shied away from their touch. Curbing the immense need to punch their face in when they continued to force their touch on him when all he wanted to do was run away from it. They had felt slimy—fake, Lambo concludes as he gritted his teeth at the flames that touched the lightning marks on his back. Excluding a false ease that puts Lambo more on edge rather than soothing him.

On the other hand, this was the only way for Lambo to get any medical assistance, so he bore with it. No matter the headache it gives him whenever he exits the medical wing. Other than that, Lambo would consider that everything was going relatively well.

Until it wasn't.

He made a slip, one that caused Nina to gasp and shriek in horror as his wristband beeped and sent him convulsing to the floor, lighting hitting the air in a mocking display of light. Lambo didn't remember what happened after that, distracted by the buzzing agony coursing through his body and the fact that the shock was _much_ stronger than the last couple of episodes he's had so far. What he did remember was waking up to a hand brushing through his hair with gentle fingers laced with yellow flames that were similar to the doctors. Yet, in comparison, these flames were softer, brighter and so very _warm_. Soothing him as Lambo leaned towards the pleasant heat as he watched hazily through lidded eyes.

It was his aunt who was touching his cheek with the shimmering Sun flames, brushing a thumb across skin to vanish the aches like a passing dream _(—a nightmare, Oliver whispered, a terrible and horrible nightmare.)_

Lambo opened his mouth weakly, "...Aunt-"

Ottavia shushed him, "Sleep, Lambo. Don't force yourself."

The flames grew brighter as Ottavia gazed warmly down at his tired eyes, "We'll talk about this tomorrow...when you're fully healed, and when you have fully rested. You've suffered enough for today."

"...Ok." Lambo could only say, relieved at the pain that receded as he let his eyelids fall shut.

And they did have their talk once he woke up, different from what Lambo expected as he let Aunt Ottavia's scolding voice hit him loudly, nodding whenever she shot him a fierce affirmatory look. Nina agreeing wholeheartedly at Ottavia's words with her own dutiful nods despite Lambo's pleading eyes to save him. The puppy dog eyes failed, earning only a disgruntled frown that cows him as he ducked his head. It was the first time Nina has ever looked at him with genuine disapproval, especially when she found out that he was the one who tried to hide this from them, and not Claudio.

"—and if this happens again, we'll help you!" Ottavia said. "So don't you dare try to hide from us ever again. Do you hear me? Trust us."

"I do." Lambo replied sincerely, earning satisfied looks from his two most important people in the world.

He had his doubts that everything would magically turn out for the better after that conversation, but to some degree, it did. Aunt Ottavia stayed by his side every evening without fail to check up on him. Going as far as following him to the hospital wing to make sure the doctors were doing their job correctly. And for a single moment, Lambo thought he caught the sight of Aunt Ottavia glowering like an angry mother cat towards Claudio that had walked into them that one time.

No.

They _were _glaring at each other like pissed off alley cats, ready to pounce and rip each other's throats out.

And he thought _his _anger was scary. His aunt's was _terrifying_.

Nina on the other hand, became his closest confidant whenever Aunt Ottavia wasn't there, her lady's phone number on speed dial in case of an emergency. She cooked his meals herself, wrapped his bruised fingers that were steadily disappearing from his hard-work of studying non-stop, and made sure to escort him to the hospital wing in his aunt's place.

She thinks he doesn't know, but he's aware of the defibrillator and advanced med kit hidden underneath his bed, and that she's taking lessons from the few nurses that were nice enough to teach her the proper techniques on how to handle them despite her status as a maid.

It made him smile.

Especially when he actually did have a cardiac arrest at one point and saved him like a knight in shining armour with what she had learned from the nurses. And Lambo's forever grateful for her existence and that she's standing side by side with him.

And then the year breezed by, painfully, but worthwhile as the electricity seemed to dull over time. The beep of the wristband no longer a threat to Lambo who shrugs off the electricity hitting the air as if only a pinch. He still twitched now and then, and whenever that happened, glances of concern made its way towards him as Ottavia's brown eyes looked over the rim of her teacup, fingers twitching like she's ready to ignite her Sun flames and shove it up his face.

Gods, he loved those two. And staring peacefully at his aunt's calm poise of drinking her morning tea and Nina's bright smile as she brought snacks to their table, Lambo couldn't help but beam behind the book he's currently reading.

It was the first time he started to believe that everything would turn out to be just fine.

* * *

Then he turned four, his father—Claudio, introduced him to the shooting range, the training room, and multiple lessons in assassination and espionage. It was also the first time he introduced him to his laboratory, where he strapped Lambo to a chair, smiled behind a plastic window, and leaned towards his mic with barely contained glee.

"_Increase the voltage_." The man spoke with cold, _cold_ eyes.

And Lambo. Had. _Screamed_.

* * *

It was months afterwards that Ottavia finally spoke about her true feelings.

"I wish we hadn't met." She had said quietly while looking down that day, staring into the surface of her liquid green tea, shadows upon her face.

Lambo lowered his book at her admittance, swallowing hard as he lowered his bandaged arms—from the conditioning at the laboratory—against the white counter of the garden gazebo they visited so often. Heart heavy inside his chest.

"Can I… ask why?" He inquired, the part of him as Lambo panicking inside, while the part of him as Oliver demanded_ why?_

Ottavia looked up at him, and he saw the familiar sadness, guilt, and shame upon her face.

"If you hadn't met me, none of this would have happened. You wouldn't be tortured this way, electrocuted this way." His aunt looked away. "I… I had been selfish the day I found out that my brother had a son, that I had a nephew out there, that I had _you_."

Ottavia breathed shakily, "It's not easy when you live in a famiglia that disagrees with you every step of the way. Hating you for the mere reason that I didn't like the way they handled their reign. Horrified at the lengths they would go to invent, what they called, the perfect weapons. It was terrible, frightening. I _hated_ them for it, and chose to leave for a very long time."

"It gets lonely after a while, obviously. Roaming around on your own." She said. "I met people, spoke with them, but could never call them my own. At least, not the way I wanted. Then I heard about you, and I grew selfish, wishing to have some form of company and have a connection I could feel comfortable with. A...family_._"

"Claudio refused my desire to meet you at first," She confirmed. "Until we came to an agreement that I would report to him about your growth, as he called it. I didn't like it, but that was the only way I could meet you. And when I did, I couldn't help but see how precious you are."

Bright eyes started at Lambo and he nearly drowned under at the love and awe as she recalled that day, a soft smile on her lips.

"You were nothing like I expected. Gentle, sweet, and so very _very _intelligent. You spoke like a wizened adult." She looked at him, searchingly, before going a tad sheepish. "You even comforted both Nina and I when we were the ones who were supposed to appear strong for you."

"And now," Ottavia spoke with a bitter tone. "I've made you take up responsibilities I never wanted you to take. Pain your age should never feel. And, do you know what else I see in you?"

Ottavia looked at him with deep woe, "I see a person that's seen too much. Endured too much. And never truly learned to _live_."

"And it's _all my fault_." She said tearfully and Lambo couldn't believe what he was hearing.

Lambo—No, Oliver snapped, because he needed to tell her this, as an adult, "We've been through this, Aunt Ottavia, it's not, and never will be, your fault."

"You don't know if it was _your_ appearance that caused all of _this _to happen, and frankly, I don't believe that. Not because it's to ease your mind, but it's the truth. Have you ever heard about the butterfly effect? Then you know there's no way that Claudio wouldn't eventually discover my talents, in turn, become interested in me. There are so many possibilities out there, so many paths in our actions, and you honestly believe that your appearance was what caused all of this to happen?" Lambo shook his head.

"I don't believe that."

Aunt Ottavia, whose eyes were drastically becoming wider and surprised at his words, opened her mouth to speak.

"But—"

"No." Lambo cut in, already knowing she's going to repeat unnecessary things. "If you go on about stuff like regretting to meet me again, I'll ignore you!"

"Lambo, if we hadn't met, then all of this could have possibly been-"

"Meeting you was the best thing that has ever _happened_ to me, Ottavia!" Lambo yelled, gripping the edges of his book tightly, because she _is_ the best thing. She is! Why can't she get that? Why don't people understand? Why do they doubt themselves despite how wonderful they truly are?

"So don't you dare say that again!"

Silence met his outburst. The rustle of leaves echoing behind them in a lulling breeze, and Lambo blinked back the frustrated tears trying to escape his eyes. He rubbed them against the fabric of his bandages to stop himself from crying. To hold it in.

"I'm sorry, Lambo." Was his aunt's slow reply. "I never took your feelings into consideration. How terrible of me."

Annoyance sparked at her last words, and Lambo was about to say something again when his aunt's hand brushed against his. Looking up, shiny green eyes caught sight of Ottavia's ardent smile that shone like the bright sun itself, brown eyes twinkling with tears.

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me too, Lambo."

* * *

If someone had asked Oliver one day if he liked his birthdays, then he would have just shrugged his shoulders and said that he didn't mind them. That they're a good way of gathering friends and family to celebrate for a day. And hey, gifts and money, free of charge.

If someone had asked Lambo now, the child would have frowned with a pained face and say that they're unpleasant and unnecessary, rubbing irritatedly at his wrist while at it. Having long gotten rid of the black wristbands when Claudio introduced him to the laboratory. Unnecessary, the man had deemed as he threw them away onto the floor.

_(—They're not gone. The wristbands that had signed his fate and introduced the first start of the hellish road. Not when the scars that were left behind circled around his wrists like a mocking symbolism. More permanent, Lambo had mused bitterly, liking them to chains and a reminder of flashing electricity. They're never, ever gone—)_

Before, birthdays used to represent a day of gratitude and best wishes for Oliver. Now, they represented a new start of a hell road that Lambo absolutely loathe with a passion.

His aunt had been upset when she first found out _(—Oliver laughed dryly and commented that she's upset about a lot of things nowadays—_) as she loved birthdays, and gave him three years' worth of presents just to make it up to him. But she understood where he came from when she heard that Claudio found a sick amusement at making his birthdays a living hell after the discussion they had two years ago.

And to make a better example to why this is the case is when Claudio blandly says on his 5th birthday:

"I have a hit for you."

Lambo said nothing other than to pause in front of the office doors, black curls falling over his face as green eyes narrowed. He should've known that this birthday wouldn't be any different from the last one.

Gripping the edge of the door, Lambo turned his head slowly to give him some time to think, to choose his words carefully. He refrained from taking an Oliver-esque approach of demanding why and instead only inquired, "Who?"

Claudio waved a careless hand in reply, twisting on his chair to face sideways. "It hardly matters," the man said, "All I know is that someone wants to get rid of the son of a prominent man, something about being a nuisance. A bastard's child."

Tightening his hold on the frame, Lambo bit his lips when he realised his first mission involved ending the life of a mere _kid __(—not an assassination, Oliver didn't have the heart to admit that yet)_. He knew this was forthcoming a long time ago, that as a child of the mafia, he'll have to make a kill someday. And now that the time has finally, Lambo couldn't help but feel queasy. After all, being an assassin was never who Oliver was. It was always who Lambo was, the original one.

A Bovino assassin.

Even if the Lambo the majority knew was only just a brat with an ego too big for his own good, he was still dangerous. Not the skilled assassins that's been on the field and understands the burden of taking a life or ones that _thrives_ in it. The original Lambo had always been a brand of chaos that left havoc whenever he pleased and laugh naively to his own actions. When he was Oliver, he had always marvelled at how troublesome the boy was and always compared it to his 20 year-older counterpart that seemed to be for the better part, a calmer version of the original Lambo _(—which begs the question, Oliver tilts his head, where _is_ the bazooka?_).

Yet, there's no mistaken that he's Lambo Bovino now and he had no choice other than to accept the mission, because…that's the only way he'll meet them. Right?

"I'll do it. But...what's my target's name?"

Claudio sighed indifferently, "I'll send you the folder when you get there. The commissioner was tight on secrecy, considering he didn't want the Famiglia his target hails from to know about this, less something gets leaked and gets traced back to him."

The Bovino Boss finally stared at him, "It should be easy for you. Infiltration _is_ a specialty of yours, and from what I've heard from your tutors about your efficiency with firearms, then it's the perfect kill for your first time."

Lambo winched quietly at the careless way the man said 'kill'.

"Besides, no one would expect a child to do the deed." The man smiled darkly.

Claudio whirled his chair around, "You'll leave at noon."

Lambo hovered by the entrance, unsure on how to react as part of him as Oliver shook his head and refused the idea of killing someone, a _child_ no less. He had died protecting one after all, standing before the gun and eventual shot to death because of it. It would be wrong to switch places and stand behind the very thing that had killed him in the first place.

He swallowed.

However, at the same time, he was no longer Oliver as he wasn't the original Lambo either. He's both, yet different, raised in different circumstances and seen different things. Oliver used to be a curious being, always asking and seeking to understand, wondering and trying to find out all kinds of truth no matter the circumstances. Lambo, despite not truly knowing him the way he lived as Oliver, used to be loud, eccentric and egoistic, always causing trouble whenever it wasn't necessary.

The Lambo he's now...was a modified version of them.

Different.

Lambo took a deep breath, nodding towards the Bovino Boss at his earlier demand, "Yes, sir."

Angling his body to leave, the boy looked at the man with stilted politeness, "May I leave now?"

Claudio nodded slowly, and Lambo breathed in relief as he practically threw the doors open, ready to escape when his boss spoke up again.

"Oh, and son."

_Son. _

Lambo's emerald eyes snapped back to Claudio whose own turned the darkest of nights, narrowing like a creature out for blood. "If you fail me, be ready for the consequences of your mistakes when you come back."

Lambo could only nod shakily at the man's words before disappearing behind closed doors, walking down a lengthy part of the hallway in absolute silence before he all but bolted down the foyer. Face painted with dread and fear as he rushed towards anywhere. Anywhere but _there_ as his black locks danced around him in a hurry, panting as his heart raced. Head filled with thoughts of _what consequences, what are they, I can't fail, what if it's bad, what if it'll hurt, he **doesn't want to get punished, **no more, not again, I don't want to be in the laboratory again!_

His dilemma was cut short when he crashed into someone, sending him falling onto his rear with a hiss of pain. Looking up to see who it was, he was met with Nina's own mirrored surprise.

"Young Master?" Nina questioned before quickly glancing around quickly. Deeming it safe, she kneeled worriedly next to him. "Are you alright, Lambo?"

Lambo looked away with a shuddering breath, "I-I'm fine, Nina."

The frown etched on his maidservant's face was a clear sign that she didn't believe him as she looped a delicate hand under his arms, helping him up as she brushed non-existent dust from his clothing. "Lambo," She began earnestly with furrowed brows, blue-grey eyes looking straight into his shaken ones. "What did the man say? What did he do this time?"

He looked down to the floor, worrying his lips before he recalled the talk he had with his aunt and Nina a year ago, where they gazed at him with such fierce eyes, and promised to be there for him. That he should trust them.

Lambo breathed, "I've received my first ki-"

He slumped his shoulders, biting the inside of his cheek before repeating weakly, "I've received my first...mission."

Nina gasped quietly to herself, a sharp intake of breath, before her expression settled to a grave one. Her pale fingers caught his in a comforting hold, scoping his hands into her own big warm ones and enveloped them, bringing them up to her forehead. And she prayed.

Prayed for his safety.

Prayed for his return.

Prayed for _him_.

She looked more beautiful than ever with her golden hair seemingly shining under the sun.

"When you come back," Nina began softly. "Me and Miss Ottavia will take care of you. After all, as a maid, your safety and happiness is my first priority. But in the end, I understand that this will be a grievous process. From what I've seen, it's never easy, and perhaps it never will. All that matters to me is that I can stand by your side and take care of you. That certainly hasn't changed since the time I laid my eyes on you when you were but a babe."

Lambo ducked his head with a flushed face, earlier heaviness in his chest dying to a warmer tone.

"Nina, you're not just a maid, your family too." Lambo said softly, hugging her, and she returned it just as fiercely.

"I know." She replied brightly, cuddling her young master.

The boy pulled away, chest light as he cracked a wide beam at Nina, "Thank you. I really needed that."

Nina smiled, "I'm glad I could make you happy."

Straightening her legs to a stand, she reached for his hand that he gladly gave, walking down the hall together.

"Let's get you ready for your departure. When is it exactly?"

Lambo looked up at her, "Noon."

Nina frowned, "Miss Ottavia was looking forwards to have her evening tea with you today, to at least celebrate something. I was looking forward to it too."

Lambo didn't like birthdays anymore, not after Claudio, but spending it together with his two most important people was enough for the tired soul inside him. Lambo tightened his hold on Nina's hand with a tilt of his head, cheeks flushed with happiness.

"We'll do it tomorrow. When I come back." Lambo said with bright green eyes. "We can hang out in the garden. We'll drink tea like usual, I'll even bring my new book I found recently!"

Nina's face melted at the sight of her adorable charge, nodding with fond agreement.

"Together."

* * *

It was six p.m, and the sun was starting to die as Lambo climbed higher with his small limbs on the side of what he had first thought was a building, but turned out to be a castle that screamed grand, grey, and glorious. He sweated as he latched onto a platform, and from what he read on the few files he received, this position was the best place to snipe the target that always came out to the balcony to watch the skies. And like Claudio said, nobody would suspect a child at the age of five to be the one to end the target's life, so it would be easy to slip away after he completes his mission. It wasn't difficult to get in either, it was much easier than he expected, and he wonders if this is what it's like for the Arcobaleno too.

Hauling the sniper rifle strapped behind his back over the edge, Lambo tumbled to the flat surface with a _omph. _Breathing out, Lambo took a moment to collect himself and when he did, he nodded. He set up his station and waited patiently for his target to come outside, lying flat on his stomach. His form obscured by the ivy vines growing around him and down the side of the building.

Lambo felt his throat constrict as his finger hovered the trigger of his weapon, a silenced sniper rifle, and couldn't believe he was really doing this. Killing a boy whose only 12 years-old from what the files Claudio gave him said, only seven years older than Lambo himself. He wonders if he can do this? If he'll make the shot.

As Oliver, he used to recall how kids used to boast about holding a gun. At how it was amazing, and how cool they felt at shooting the target papers you usually found in the shooting range, bragging that they made a headshot or two. At how innocent their actions were back then. Now, he couldn't help but feel a swell of emptiness and apprehension at their words. At how switching one object for a real, living and breathing target could change their attitudes in a heartbeat if they were ever forced into his position.

It was scary.

Sickening, really. And he really hated his life as Lambo.

On the other hand, he can't afford to fail either.

There will be consequences if he did. And remembering the cold and ominous gaze of Claudio's eyes, Lambo knew it was a bad one.

A very, _very_ bad punishment.

The files also stated that his target was the only child staying at this area and was advised to kill on sight. Lambo swallowed, feeling how dry his throat is.

He can't fail. He can't.

A distant click of a door reached Lambo's ears, and he tensed, feeling his head hurt from how hard he grinded his jaw. He tried to remember everything he was taught, to relax, slow his breathing and calm himself. Never panic and always remain steady. The boy breathed deeply. Once. Twice. And feeling his heart settling, Lambo hollowed himself.

Lowering his head, Lambo looked through the scope, seeking the boy he was ordered to eliminate. It took a while before he managed to find the boy who was leaning against the railing, chin on his arms with a contemplating face. Like they were in a moment of deep concentration of deciding something of utmost importance.

Emerald eyes blinked once, then twice, before all colour left his face.

Lambo drew back shakily, a hand covering his mouth as the grip on the trigger slacked, horror and shock growing on his face. He felt light headed as he forced himself to breath, difficult with the way his throat refused to relax, before taking another look through the scope to confirm what he saw.

He pulled back with the same reaction of dread.

Lambo hadn't been mistaken.

It was exactly what he saw.

Silver hair reaching his chin, mint green eyes staring lowly over the railing, small arms cushioning his youthful face.

Lambo knew him.

He knew him _painfully _well.

It was Gokudera Hayato.

Gokudera. _Hayato _

Future Storm Guardian.

Tsuna's right hand man.

The world seemed to stop as Lambo lay there in shock, time passing as the clouds drifted further and the twitter of birds continued, finger no longer hovering over the trigger. And Gokudera...still had no idea. He had no idea what's being pointed at his head. And… Lambo doesn't know what to do either.

With a wheezing breath, Lambo looked down.

It was an hour later, when Gokudera decided it was enough before he turned away to enter the building doors, leaving Lambo to pick up his supplies numbly. Scaling down the castle wall, leaving the area with tight-lipped silence, and reached the middle of the forest. He dropped his head from where he stood, uninterested at the disappearing peaks of the castle, mind occupied by the fact that Gokudera was still out there alive and breathing. Staring at his outstretched hands, eyes following the lines of his lightning bolt scars, Lambo brought them towards his face.

He broke down, the first ripples of a sob escaping through his fingers as tears fell down _(—hold it in, they whispered, hold it in dammit!—_), crouching heavily against himself.

His first mission was a failure.

One that brings both fear and relief to brew in his chest.

Relief at the fact he didn't kill Gokudera.

Fear for what will happen when he reaches 'home'.

* * *

The impact of a fist hitting the side of his cheek was what greeted Lambo when Claudio entered his room in a storm of fury, sending him sprawling on the floor with a muffled cry of pain.

"Young Master!" Nina screamed when Claudio first lashed out, rushing towards Lambo with trembling hands. She was holding comfortingly to his shoulders as Lambo willed the tears away, covering his flaming and stinging cheek with the palm of his hand. Green eyes met fuming brown ones.

"_You…_" Claudio hissed venomously. "How dare you! How dare you come back with such—_failure_!"

The boy didn't say anything as he stared mutedly to the floor, letting Claudio's anger to wash over him. He's learned a long time ago that arguing would do more harm than good from his time alive as Oliver, and instead, learned to shut up and contain his anger or frustrations from erupting out loud.

"I didn't train you to be a useless weapon!" The man screamed, throwing an arm out to knock a vase to the floor in a loud shatter of destruction. "I didn't train you to be worthless!"

Lambo watched as the usually cold and blank face of his boss twist to something vile and disconcerting. Eyes burning with rage and mania, and it was frightening to see these changes, this revealing of true colours. Made even more so when he took note at how similar their faces were.

The Bovino Boss moved to hit him again, and Lambo flinched at the action, squeezing his eyes shut as Nina tightened her hold on him protectively. When nothing happened, he opened his eyes hesitantly, trembling when he realised that Claudio's face had changed once again. Back to the cold and calculative gaze, earlier rage hidden behind layers of ice and control, and Lambo felt that something _terrible _was about to happen.

Claudio brushed a hand through his hair with a shaky sigh, trying to keep his anger controlled before snapping his eyes towards the younger. "I warned you, didn't I?" The man inquired coldly. "Of the consequences of your failures."

What happened next had seemed like a dream. A distant yet loud dream that echoed across his world like a _bang. _It was like a feeling of _deja vu_ as he stared at the barrel pointing at him. Like he was Oliver all over again, standing terrified before the criminal that killed him with a single shot, dying before the eyes of a mother who begged him to open his eyes. To live.

And in this time, Lambo had also stopped breathing.

_For an entirely different reason._

Shakily, Lambo brought a hand to his cheek, touching it briefly before pulling them back. With a hitch of his breath, Lambo realised he was looking at blood again, glowing crimson and shiny under the dim lights of his room. The colour bringing dread and despair to fill his head, and turning his body around slowly, a low cry escaped his lips at what he saw.

"_Nina!" _Lambo cried out, crawling frantically towards her prone figure, golden hair cascading all over the floor like a fallen angel.

With quivering hands, Lambo threw himself over her, trying to cover the blood rushing out of her throat with trembling fingers. Sobbing like a useless child as the blood continued to slip past his fingers. Nina's whose face was pale, too pale for his comfort as her eyes stared sightless to the side, hands grasping nothing as they lay strewn to the side and over her stomach. Lambo tries to ignore the way the side of her face was splattered or the way the pool of blood continued to grow larger—all he could do was babble under his breath. Telling her to stay awake despite her chest not moving at all, telling her to hold on despite her silence, telling her to live despite the lifelessness of her beautiful blue-grey eyes. To just _stay with him_.

Realistically, he just didn't want to admit that Nina was gone for good. That she was—

"I told you, didn't I?" Lambo stifled his cries to stare crestfallen at Nina's murderer, Claudio's voice piercing through his fragile heart. "To choose someone you wouldn't regret."

Lambo went chalk white because he _did_ remember. The choice he had to make when he had been taken away from the nursery. And now, because of his choice, Nina was...Nina was…

The boy choked, green eyes wide with near catatonic shock as he gripped tightly at Nina's apparels, mouth moving as if to say something, _anything_.

Nothing came out.

"This is only the beginning, _son_. If this happens again," Claudio spat darkly. "Then my dearest _sister_ will be next."

Lambo raised his head up, frozen at the boss' words, fear coursing through his body as he pushed harder against Nina's throat despite knowing it was futile. He wouldn't, would he? Lambo bit his lips, sweat falling down the side of his head, Claudio wouldn't kill his own _sister _would he?

"This was only a warning." Was the man's cruel words, like Nina's life meant nothing to him, and staring into those cold and ominous eyes, Lambo had only felt empty inside. "So don't bring anymore shame to this famiglia."

Claudio turned his head away, briskly walking out his prison like he didn't just commit a sin of killing an innocent soul like Nina's. With the doors closing behind the man, and unable to do anything else, Lambo collapsed over her. Grasping her face and pressing his forehead against hers, uncaring of the blood smearing all over the place, and repeated her name in a broken mantra. The tears in his eyes falling, his sadness overflowing as he begged her to stay. Knowing they were just empty words spoken to someone who was already gone. And with a cry filled with anguish, Lambo sobbed.

"_I'm sorry. Forgive me, please. Please. Forgive me."_

* * *

Nina's funeral was a quiet affair. One that only he, Aunt Ottavia and a few others attended. He didn't remember much about the funeral in general, only that he was staring emptily at Nina's peaceful face inside her casket, limp hand grasped by Ottavia's unwavering ones.

It was only by the end of the ceremony, standing before Nina's gravestone and getting hugged by his aunt that made him finally react, spilling his tears over her shoulders as his own trembled. Ottavia murmuring comforting words into his ears as she rubbed the small of his back, a hand tangled in his black curls, bringing him closer.

Lambo had only held tighter, hugging her fiercely as he cried, for once, abandoning his recalcitrance for something more vulnerable. Despite his dislike to be seen as the very thing he was displaying, even Lambo had his breaking points (—_even Oliver_—). His limits broken from his endless thoughts that _Nina died because of him_. He didn't protect her, hadn't promised her either, and wasn't _strong enough_. He should have been the one. It should have been Lambo. It shouldn't have been _Nina_ who was caught in the crossfire. He should have stepped in like the human shield he had been in that distant lifetime, the one that protected someone. Instead, Nina was _dead_ because of him.

Lambo choked.

Just why did loss feel so unkind?

And now? Now Aunt Ottavia would be next. He can't. He can't lose someone else again (—_No more, no more, not again—_).

"I'll protect you!" Lambo sobbed out, voice cracking at his desperate plea. "I'll protect you! I swear! I won't fail you!"

Aunt Ottavia's arms clutched him harder, "_Lambo_. Sweetheart. You haven't failed anyone. _None_ of this is your fault, remember that, alright? You don't need to protect me, you shouldn't _have _to, I'll be just fine with protecting myself."

She pulled away to stare at his splotched face, expression contorting sadly at his tears as she whipped them away with a swipe of her thumb.

"Please," Ottavia starts, pressing her forehead against his. "Just take care of yourself more. In the end, your safety is the most important thing to me—the most important thing to _us_. I can take care of myself just fine, but you on the other hand, shouldn't have to shoulder all this burden in the first place. If Nina was here…she would agree too."

Lambo shook his head fiercely, wanting to scream that he wasn't a child. That he can take care of her too!

Yet, he found himself hesitating, burying his face further into the crook of her shoulder as Lambo cried for the rest of the day. Grabbing the back of her black dress, promising himself that he'll forever protect the people close to his heart. To be their shield.

And the only way he could do that is if he didn't fail anymore.

* * *

For the next 260 days, Lambo completed 35 missions without fail much to Claudio's pleasure and Ottavia's sadness. His first kill being an old politician and an enemy mafioso, standing before the scared man as he pointed his handgun at the man's forehead, firing with only a split hesitation before going back to his aunt with a new sense of disgust for himself.

* * *

Lambo was still five when he first realized this year was ending soon. Realising to himself that there was something wrong.

No Reborn. No bazooka. No nothing.

_No one was calling for him. _

At five years-old soon six, Lambo slid down the side of the wall from coming back exhausted from yet another mission. Hugging his knees when he realised that his escape from this cage was getting slimmer and slimmer with each passing day. And no matter how much Aunt Ottavia tried to make him smile through those days with extra care and presents, Lambo found himself unable to enjoy them as he slipped further into his despair. That he was stuck here. Never to meet Sawada Tsunayoshi that had changed Lambo Bovino's life. Something Oliver had longed for since the very beginning. Something that Lambo longed for now.

He cries. A bitter smile on his lips when he came to the conclusion that_ perhaps he was just too useless to be saved. _

* * *

**A/N: *Cue tears* I have always liked Nina as a character, but unfortunately, her fate had been long foreshadowed the moment Claudio told Lambo to not regret it. But yeah, I feel bad for poor Lambo.**

**And I was actually quite excited to present the first hint of the main cast in the form of Gokudera Hayato! Did you guys expect that? **

**Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter as well!**

**One word for the next teaser: **

**Ba-zoo-ka~**

**EDIT (26/11/19):**

**Because there's multiple comments about the same thing, I've decided to provide an explanation so that I can hopefully dispel some confusions! And I always love to do explanations, haha!**

**Why does Lambo not kill Claudio? **

**The reason is simple. Firstly, killing Claudio would be the most illogical thing he can do in his position right now. Lambo has no allies there— especially not with the unnamed targets he's killed that could very much be someone of importance— and the only ally he does have is the form of Ottavia who has absolutely no control over the Bovino Famiglia, much less any power to do anything drastic. By killing Claudio would only paint a target on the back his back and a constant life on the run for patricide. Secondly, the existence of the Vendice and their need to uphold Mafia Law is a constant danger in the background of any mafioso. If by killing Claudio, does that spell out the fate that Lambo must then kill most of the subordinates that have sworn to protect Claudio? From what I remember, Mukuro's reason for being convicted by the Vendice is due to killing two mafia famiglias that had taken him in. There is also the fact that Ghost (TYL) was convicted for the reason of killing _prominent_ members of the mafia. In Lambo's current situation, he would be a sitting duck either way. And finally, and more of a personal thought that I've mentioned before to someone else and shamelessly repeating again: In the end, it's the part of Oliver that's limiting Lambo as an individual of the mafia. So, I wonder what would happen when that limitation disappears?**

**Why does he not use his flames?**

**Flames have been the _least_ thing on his mind until this very moment with the constant stress of trying to survive electrification everyday. And maybe, as a reincarnated individual, he should have practiced with trying to channel his Dying Will Flames because of the knowledge he has of them. But frankly, he was a toddler until now (and still remarkably young), I doubt his body would have tolerated the presence of Dying Will Flames back then until now which literally works through soul essence. Vongola Nono sealed Tsunayoshi's flames for the sole reason that he was too young to handle flames (which, personally to me, was a shitty thing to do). And it's far from easy to unlock them in the first place. And honestly, all I can say is to have patience with this slow writer. (I WANT CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT, OK? SUE ME.)**


End file.
